Inner Darkness
by Doxkid
Summary: Azkaban is a terrible place. Its keepers are horrific monsters and Harry finds, even if one escapes, the taint of the dark place will always stay with you. A perfect weapon, once you recognize it. *Slow start. Revenge. Darkfic. Inhuman beings. Torture.
1. Chapter 1

AN

This story is my version of HP book 6. Everything you need to know is covered either in the actual series or in here or will be in here eventually.

If you need a disclaimer, you probably shouldn't be reading fan fiction on a website founded solely so people could write about things owned by others; even so, here it is: this is a fictitious, nonprofit work, based of the Harry Potter series, which I do not own.

The Birth of Tom.

_**Parseltongue/non human speech**_

_Spells/Foreign languages/ Dreams/Text_

Chapter one

Azkaban was neither forgiving, nor kind, a sixteen-year-old Harry Potter had discovered. It was nowhere near as tolerable as Sirius, or anyone really, made it sound, which was rather unfortunate considering most people wet themselves talking about it. When you were the one in the cell, with your mind at the mercy of unholy beings, everything seemed much worst for some reason.

If Harry had been able to maintain a self-provoked thought, he would have marveled at his godfather's magical power. He was just as innocent as Sirius had been, but apparently, that didn't matter as much at all; Sirius being able to become a dog probably helped a bit too.

True, Harry was much stronger than most thought, but after three straight days of dozens of them Dementor assaulting his mind, he was driven beyond being able to reason or think coherently. He was left a hallucinating, miserable pile of barely living flesh unworthy of any Dementor's attention. Still, they still ripped the deepest, simplest thoughts away, stealing away all hope of escape. Even if he had a way too, he probably wouldn't have been able to commit suicide, fake voices and images convincing him he was not worthy of death when he had the misfortune of being barely conscious.

That, however, saved him as eventually he retreated too far into himself for even the mightiest Dementor's magic to reach him. After a few more weeks of them searching for a dreg of thought, they deemed him unsatisfying and returned to their normal patrols of the hellish castle.

After a few more weeks, spent wholly on recovering from the trauma, he finally achieved the level of mental health needed for his ingrain willpower to tear him away from the hallucinations, some obviously impossible and others simply negative, allowing him to think clearly. He knew that the time he would have unharmed by Dementors would be short, so he planned every waking moment, fighting his fatigued body for extra minutes of thinking before he passed out. It took two of these precious day before he realized something that shattered him.

"I can't escape." Be it the depression or him being realistic, he knew there was no way he could possibly escape. His voice surprised him a little, being completely alien to him, but he refused to let his mind wander while it dug into such an important topic. "I can't escape."

Any escape plan short of being rescued by Death Eaters simply wasn't going to happen and that one would certainly lead to his death anyway. He hadn't learned wand-less magic, so that was out. He couldn't contact anyone, so he couldn't get help. Worst of all, he didn't have his wand, which tied into the first reason.

"A wand." He corrected himself, after a few moments of mental drifting. Dumbledore snapped his wand shortly after his pathetic trial, despite the protests of both the muggle Ministry representative and minister Fudge. The old bastard chose minutes after his one sided trial to give a rousing speech about resisting the temptations of the joining the Dark. Then, just to emphasize his point, he snapped Harry's wand, saying something about it being every man's duty to defy and combat evil.

To be honest, the speech was rather moving, with grand gestures and the crowd hanging onto his every word. Before his trial, even Harry probably would have been drawn in. Unfortunately, he was on the wrong side of it; the splinters of his wand exploding thanks to Fawkes' feather, after Dumbledore tossed them aside carelessly almost hurt as much as the hate pouring off of his peers.

"Maybe I still can complete my animagus training…" When he said it, it seemed to be a real possibility, but the more he thought about it, the more irrational it seemed. It would take far too long to pull it off and, even if he did try, it almost wasn't worth working on.

Just a month…or was it two months? Three? Whenever his fifth year of Hogwarts ended, Hermione, probably hoping to make Harry feel better about him leading Sirius to his death, procured several doses of an animagus form revealing potion. The same night, they took refuge in the Shrieking Shack and, after Hermione customized each of their potions, they drank the potion and slept, their dreams then focused on their potential animal forms.

Hermione identified her own form as a variety of eagle, something she probably would have bragged about endlessly if she had more time to research the capabilities of her form other than flight. Ron, after comparing it other species, narrowed his down to a type of brown bear, possibly a Grizzly as they couldn't get a good description out of him. Harry however…

"I couldn't just be a duck or an insect or something. Hell, I'd be satisfied with a jellyfish. No, I had to get IT." After an hour of research gave them no results, they turned to Professor McGonagall and later Dumbledore for help. Harry was one of the most intelligent, destructive and evil creature humanity ever had the misfortune of needing to name. Compared to its well known cousin, it was a godlike monster, despite the other having both numbers and size over it. "Dumbledore could barely look at me…It was the same as Voldemort's form."

"I was hoping this wouldn't come to be." Dumbledore took him aside to speak about it. "I placed several charms on you, forced magic into your magical core and bound it away within you. I…I'm sorry, but I knew from the first moment I saw you that this would be your form. You were born with brown eyes, which only turned green only after the Killing curse destroyed my first set of enchantments, breaking some of the defenses I erected against it. Your parceltongue abilities were born from it coming into contact with a piece of Voldemort's magic in your soul."

It actually did make sense that he was accused of killing several other students. Luna died after orally ingesting the venom drawn straight from a basilisk's fang, a rare phenomenon even when one considered the rarity of basilisks. Terrence Higgs, a graduating Slytherin, died from what Dumbledore recognized as the gaze of a Basilisk. Seamus Finnegan died by a Killing curse cast from Harry's wand. It was a wonder Harry even got a trial after that little fact was discovered. He almost couldn't blame anyone for doubting him.

"Who else could it be Harry?" Hermione was the first to side against him, closely followed by Ron. "Why would Voldemort, or anyone else for that matter, waste the use of a basilisk on students? Voldemort wouldn't bother to do it, unless he killed a professor or Dumbledore. Or you." She gained steam as she went, slowly becoming angrier with him as her mind latched onto more arguments for her viewpoint. "You've always been good at complex and difficult spells, haven't you? A partial animagus transformation and a Killing curse would probably be easy for you."

Harry, caught deep in his own thoughts, paid no attention to his surroundings as, almost directly in front of him in the cell across from his, a blob of darkness oozed from the wall. The substance pooled on the floor, slowly spreading as a piece of equally sinister shadowy material drew itself from the same place in the wall.

For a few seconds, the material simply stretched, spreading over its liquid shadow that consumed a round meter of the stone floor. Then, influenced by an invisible force, the piece of material rose above its viscous sibling. As it reached human height, it almost seemed to be a cloak bound to itself at the neck, wrapped around an invisible figure. For a moment, it floated there, billowing serenely with a secret wind that blew against the gusts of ocean air laying siege to the ancient prison. Then, with wisps of it flowing off and dissipating into an icy mist, it drifted forward, slowly, but purposefully.

"The idiots are clearing the path for Voldemort to take over. I hope all of Europe isn't as stupid as they are, or the rest of the world might as well bend over and wait for some Dark Lord to…" Harry stopped himself as an indescribable feeling washed over him. It was wicked, it poisoned his very soul and as memories of his mother's death rushed through his head, he found it all too recognizable. Looking up, his eyes immediately locked onto barely identifiable blur of reality, eagerly consuming most of the light that tried to reflect off it.

As if it had been waiting for him to notice it, it sped up its drifting, phantasmal edges flaking and evaporating away as it approached him. In moments, it grew more identifiable, until it became dark but fully visible. Mouth agape, Harry simply stared, mostly undisturbed by the gust of wind blew in from his window. The air practically burned him with its icy chill, but the cloak seemed to ignore it, wisps of shadows dissipating in all directions as the edges swayed to a secret wind.

"Oh shit!" Harry blurted out. Within seconds, he heard a faint response in the distance. Surprised, he almost approached his cell bars in an attempt to see who it was, when he realized that the…thing, across from him made it to its own cell bars and slid through them, completely unheeded. Even Dementors could only reach a hand in and if the magical attacks from guards on his first day were any hints, spells couldn't get through either.

"Listen!" It was far too much to hope that the guard approaching would be able to save him, but if he was going to die, he might as well tell his side of the story first. Luckily, the creature had to cross the hallway, which was at least four meters in length; its steady movements were practically a slow walk as the cloak and sludge alike slid towards him. "Tell everyone that Harry Potter never hurt anyone! Tell them that I was innocent!" His voice cracked, a reminder that puberty still owned his body.

The lone auror yelled something in response, but Harry paid it no attention. The thing, in his moment of inattention, had surged forward across the hallway and was now barely outside his cell. Stumbling back into his farthest wall, Harry let his mind slip away as he readied himself for death. If fate granted him that.

"I'm sorry." Dozens of people danced through his mind, most identical to those he dreamt up in his journey of self-destruction not too long ago. One person stood out though. The only person who he respected, was still alive and wasn't at his trial, damning his existence and cursing his very life. "I'm sorry that I wasn't like my father Remus." The cloak floated in front of him, its black ooze pooling around his feet. "I guess I won't be the next generation of Marauder you and Sirius hoped for." The ooze started to climb over him, taking away all sensation from the areas it covered.

"I hope you survive Voldemort's reign." It reached his stomach, vanquishing all traces of hunger that refused to be satiated by the daily nutrient potions that appeared for him, that fed themselves to him if he did not promptly drink them. "I suppose Neville might be able to save all of you." It covered his chest and his heartbeat slowed as his thoughts tried not to cease.

"All of you don't deserve to die at his hands; you didn't help me, but you don't deserve to die." It was up to his neck now, stopping already nonexistent blood flow further. "I'm sorry." Panic, then acceptance washed over him as it blinded him, then all traces of him ever even having senses disappeared.

The sound of the dark sea vanished. The taste of the grime, born of potions occasionally fed to him in his sleep, faded. Eventually, only the knowledge that he existed remained. Untold amounts of time later, a quiet voice filled his mind, rejuvenating his thoughts.

"Will you pass on?" It was an appealing idea. He almost wanted to beg to die, but he kept himself quiet. He owed every single one of his parental figures to try not to take the easy way out.

"No? Alright then. Do you wish to fight me?" It almost seemed to be egging him on now, as if it wanted to test his ability. He wouldn't let himself fall prey to it though. Fighting, while not only imprisoned in nothingness, but also desensitized, definitely wouldn't end well for him.

"Not that? Would you like to submit to me?" This inquiry was calm and gentle compared to the other. It held possibility too…but he couldn't. Nothing good ever came from submitting to another, especially under circumstances like these.

If he had given into Voldemort in his first year at Hogwarts, who knows how horribly his life would have ended. His parents would probably be disappointed too. They fought to the death to try to protect him against Voldemort…he might as well spit on their graves while he was at it. Then again, so long as he was happy and healthy, they might not care; he didn't really have enough experience with parents to know.

"What do you chose?" It waited a second as Harry went over his options. "What do you wish to do?" The first choice was the best. He could escape to heaven, hell or wherever he was supposed to go after death. The second was simply retarded and the last wasn't much better. After thinking things over though, he realized the voice gave him many more options than just those three. The last sentence it uttered allowed him to do whatever he wanted, so long as he didn't annoy the owner of the voice doing it.

"I want to go back?" A familiar barking laugh sounded, painfully memorable, shortly followed with an angry hiss. The laugh was almost made him forget that he could understand that hiss if he chose to, being too important for him to focus on anything else.

"I knew you wouldn't fail me kid! I'm not allowed to say you can, but I knew you would figure it out!" A set of sounds, almost dog like, accompanied the voice now. "I suppose I might as well fulfill my duties as a godfather now. I promised to help you however I could, to watch over you in life and death and I will never break my promise to your parents."

"You couldn't be." A huge dog appeared, trotting out of the darkness to stand before him. For a moment, Harry realized that he had a body, but that was quickly surpassed by the realization that only one person he knew would be represented as a massive dog and talk the way it seemed to. "Siri…" Behind the dog, a ridiculously large snake reared back and lunged forward, it's black, silver and green scales burning an unmistakable pattern into his mind. He would never forget the creature that ruined his life and sent him to hell on earth. Without intending to, he let the cursed beast's name release itself to the world. "A Dwarf Basilisk."

"What?" As Sirius the dog turned around, Harry's senses exploded with life.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Parseltongue/non human speech**_

_Spells/Foreign languages/ Dreams/Text_

**Daily Prophet**

"There have been reports of a strange, previously unnamed dark creature roaming across the Northern edge of Great Britain." The animated photo of Rita smiled here, unable to restrain her love for a juicy story, before pulling Nymphadora Tonks into the picture. "Our exclusive eyewitness and the only person to survive a direct encounter with this creature, Nymphadora Tonks, gave the following completely exclusive, unedited interview mere hours ago." Rita nudged Tonks and the auror started her story.

"It all started with me getting stuck with Azkaban guard duty instead of my usual patrol, policing and paperwork. It was all because I was coerced into joining a vigilante group, that...well, that's another story. Anyway, I was about to go down to the prison personnel area to apparate out, since we only get five minutes when the wards allow it, when I heard an odd scream. It was kind of far away, but it sounded roughly like 'Oh Shit!' which never means anything good there." Tonks barely got the last word out, before Rita interjected.

"Yes dear. Go on please." Rita patted Tonks on the back in what looked like a somewhat comforting manner, but Tonks shrugged the hand off. Shooting a look of pure dislike, she continued.

"Of course I ran straight over there, assuming a dementor had cornered another guard or something. Instead I found Potter being assaulted by a dementor...or maybe him assaulting it with dark magic." Rita nodded, imploring her to go on.

"The moment I realized there was a dementor in the cell, I cast a patronus and sent a messenger spell for another guard to come assist me. While I was casting the second spell, I heard a hissing sound and looked back at the cell..." Tonks stumbled here and tried to rephrase her verbal blunder, but the damage was done.

"You were looking away from the cell?" Rita leaned in, and whispered conspiratorially. "Why would you need to look away? Perhaps you couldn't bear to see your lost love under those circumstances. Do you still have a romantic attachment to The-Boy-Who-Betrayed?" Tonks looked up in horror at Rita, before she skewed up her face in concentration. Rita appeared taken back and started to ask what was wrong, when Tonks, her body stretching into the form of a burly man, lunged from her seat.

The picture froze for a second, before a seething, but female Tonks and Rita, who looked noticeably rattled reappeared. Eying the metamorphagus wearily, Rita continued with the interview.

"So you heard a hissing sound and re-focused on the cell? What happened?" Tonks took a few seconds to collect her wits, before she proceeded.

"The dementor had turned around and was approaching me, but something was wrong about that. Dementors always flee from a patronus, even when they already have their victim pinned. This one came straight for me and my patronus was nowhere in sight. Thinking quickly, I summoned another one, but instead of chasing the dementor away, they both stopped in their tracks."

"I'm sure you must have been terrified." Rita lifted her purse onto her lap, ready to whip out tissues, but it was, once again, an annoyingly unnecessary gesture.

"The dementor then started to glide towards me, until it was right in front of Snuffles and..." Rita stopped Tonks again.

"I'm sorry to stop you, but Snuffles? You named your patronus...after what or who, might I ask? What is your patronus' form?" Tonks stared coldly at the woman and continued, ignoring the question completely.

"It glided right up to Snuffles, bent down and reached out, almost like it was going to pet him. I was so shocked, I barely registered that another creature had ripped straight through the warded magical bars and rushed out of the cell, until I saw its tail disappear around a corner. And then it left and that's it."

"I'm sorry, my dear?" The lame ending almost seemed to throw Rita off balance as she fished for more.

"The dementor had some kind of fit and then glided away, following the first creature and a few seconds later, the other on duty guards reached me. One of them asked what had happened, so I gave my report when we noticed Potter wasn't in his cell anymore. I later filed a formal report and the Minister, along with all of my superiors, were all immediately notified."

"Hmm. Is it possible that Potter has used his mastery of dark magic to create a new dark creature? Or, maybe he could have transformed himself into a dark creature and left while you were distracted by the cursed dementor." Tonks started to respond, but Rita continued, gaining steam. "Do you think it's possible that he has restarted his efforts at replacing or resurrecting his dark master?"

"I'm not at liberty to say right now. The only reason I was allowed to even give this interview was because the Minister thought that the public needed to know."

Rita nodded, before rising and carefully placing her purse on the chair. "Well, thank you for your time." She offered her hand to Tonks, who responded with a single finger salute, before the picture restarted its story.

Harry slowly awoke, eyes locked upon a familiar ceiling. For a few seconds, he let his eyes roam the ceiling above him, taking in every crack before he realized that he already knew where every one of them was already. Shocked, he took a few seconds to process that information before he figured out where he was.

"What the hell am I doing at the Dursleys house?" Feeling queasy, he forced himself to sit up, the wood under him already creaking under his weight. "Why am I on the floor?" He waited a second for an answer to come to him, but he thought of nothing. Wearily reaching to correct his glasses, mostly due to habit, his hands went straight to his face. He wasn't wearing them.

"What the hell's going on?" Forcing his complaining muscles under his will and ignoring hunger pains stronger than any he had experienced since his childhood, Harry stood and glanced around his room. It was empty. Hedwig's cage, his truck, his bed: they were all gone.

"Oh. That can't be good."

"Do you think I care how much of your money you will have to spend to retrieve these artifacts? That it matters how dangerous it will be to look for them? Perhaps you think I do not know. That I need to you spoon-feed me information." Lucius cringed and bowed deeply, whispering several hushed apologies. Narcissa wisely forced Draco to imitate their head of house, the two of them prostrated behind Lucius as he tried to worm his way out of his responsibilities to Voldemort.

"My lord, I would never insult your intelligence as such. I failed to word what I meant correctly! If I could correct myself, I wanted to say …" An amused smile twisted itself onto his demi-human lord's unnatural features. With skill begat only by years of practice, he intricately weaved magic around the family, intoxicating them with his power.

"It seems that my lenience is undeserved." He abruptly stopped the ritualistic drugging, forcing sudden, soul searing withdrawal. "Do you believe it necessary for your lord to explain himself to you?" His magic danced enticingly around them, tingling just within their senses. Like a child harshly scolded, they could only hope to please him in whatever they did next.

"I …" Finally, he struck out at them, a phantasmal touch squeezing at the outer reaches of their souls. Draco actually whimpered slightly, unused to the unique treatment and Voldemort smiled. He was once a master of the technique, but now he could barely coerce a room full of people with it, without them remembering it. Once someone knew that he was actively doing something to them, it seemed to lose some its strength.

"Be weary. Your lord is a kind one; I will forgive this one discrepancy in your record of otherwise…acceptable service. Do not disappoint me again. Do so and nothing; not your blood, your wealth or your sacrifices will grant you my mercy. You have three days to retrieve the first artifact." They unconsciously huddled together slightly, unable to help themselves. They HAD to obey him, or…they might disappoint him. It was something they understood only that moment, before the thought settled deep in their mind, etching itself into their unconscious mind and then fading from their thoughts. It would stay with them for weeks, hopefully until they completed their task. "Be gone."

With a harsh crack, not unlike a dead tree splitting in half, they disappeared, Lucius and Narcissa both duel apparating their son to ease the strain on their spouse. Voldemort took a moment to remember his peak of strength fondly, as he willed away a puddle of their fear soiling his throne room's floor.

"Bellatrix." The husk of a woman, appeared beside him, a smile engraved onto her face by her addiction to his power. She was his most loyal, his most powerful, but she had lost her true beauty to his magic long before Azkaban robbed her of her sanity. Still, she was beyond doubt, loyal and that was far more important than sanity right now. "Follow them. Learn what you can and return to me, unseen by all." As a rare privilege, he stroked her cheek, magical gratification sewn to his touch. The feeling of love she projected in return was almost nauseating. "Go, my pet." With a shudder, she popped away quietly, already changing to her animagi form.

Now the only human remaining in the manor, Voldemort spared himself the effort of maintaining the illusions layered upon him. With nary a gesture, they all fell dormant at once, leaving a still young Tom Riddle in the place of the serpent inspired man.

"_**Master? Master change?" **_Nagini, stirred by the active magic around her, slithered out from under his chair. _**"Master taste like before long wait."**_

"_**Yes. I have changed my pet. I can feel long lost fragments of my soul returning to me. The rituals I completed are returning me to my prime. Soon we will be slithering on hunts together again." **_Nagini slid up his leg, into his robes and coiled part of herself around his waist, the lower half of her length wrapping around his leg down to his black, efficient shoes.

"_**Master warm again." **_Amused, Voldemort ignored the habitual praise for his warmth, his mind straying to topics that were actually important.__

"_**Have your young discovered anything about the dark creature? Are there more? What abilities does it possess?" **_Nagini hissed more praise, before drifting into a quiet sleep._** "Useless. I almost miss sharing your body." **_Nearly black, green eyes brightened to a blood chilling red as he reapplied every one of his illusions in one swift move. Standing suddenly, most of Nagini fell to the smooth floor and after a few seconds, the rest of her followed.

"_**Now AWAKE!" **_Nagini stirred, immediately looking up to her master._** "We have a new prey to hunt." **_She hissed up to him, pleased.

The Dursley household house was empty. Harry scoured the two-story home, searching for the usual signs of the physically deformed family of three, only to find a small layer of dust over the floor and small, pattern-less figures scratched into the walls. That is, of course, excluding the back door, which some unknown force had demolished. Seeing as there were no other signs of entry and he never had a key, Harry deduced he entered through it and stopped to rest for the day.

"I'm all alone." Most teens his age would be appalled if their family actually abandoned them, but he had been preparing for it for years. "They took my stuff with them though, those bastards." For as long as he could remember, Harry had wished either he or the Dursleys would simply disappear one day; this was simply a dream come true, with a crappy situation attached to balance it out.

'They must have moved while I was in Azkaban." After thinking about it for a few seconds, he dismissed it as impossible. He couldn't escape Azkaban without something or someone helping him and so far, there were no signs of that. It only took a little longer for him to remember Voldemort's manipulation just a few months before. "That was only one of Voldemort's visions. Just a dream. The Dursleys probably left before I got back from school..." It didn't explain why he woke up in his room, instead of an inn or the Weasley's place, but it was good enough for the time being.

After about five minutes, which was a guess as best since he had no watch and the Dursleys left no clocks behind, he took some initiative and formulated a mental list of what he needed to do:

1) Get some money from Gringotts.

2) Find a hotel or rent a place away from the public eye.

3) Get school supplies.

4) Find Hedwig.

5) Get a wand.

At five, he stopped himself. "I don't need a new wand…the Dursleys wouldn't touch one, even to burn it and I always have it on me." Checking over himself, he found no pockets. The outfit, a grey jumpsuit and black cloak from what he could see, left no place to tuck a wand away, excluding his waistband. "Crap."

A solution jumped at him. "Ok. I just need to go to Diagon ally and contact Dumbledore from there." Something drove him away from the idea, even as a small fragment of him begged him to compete that plan. He had no reason not to do it, did he? "I'll figure that out later."

Combing over the house one last time, Harry resigned himself to his fate and walked out of the now useless home. Automatically throwing his hand up, he stopped himself from completing the gesture. "Damn it! No wand…" He didn't get to think more about the subject, as the Knight bus, in all its purple glory, screeched to a stop inches from his face. As he took a step to the side, to the opening doors, he realized that it was, in fact getting dark. Trivial, but he could not help but feel like it was still somehow important.

As the door opened a short, attractive and bored looking female conductor moved to greet him. Though he could tell she was gorgeous and sixteen, if not older, her good looks were poisoned by her distinct familiarity and frumpish glare. "Welcome to the Night bus. My name is Alex Shunpike and I'll be your conductor for the evening. A ride to your destination is eleven sickles. For fifteen, you get a toothbrush, a water bottle and hot chocolate." Harry reached for his money pouch, only to realize it was probably still with his truck, as he still lacked of pockets.

"No money?" Alex gave him a tired look, before handing Harry a parchment and quill. "Sign your name and we'll send you your bill by post. If your bill is not paid, we reserve the right to send a request to the ministry for aurors to apprehend you and then remove the money from your vault." Harry signed his name.

"Potter? As in, Harry Potter?" It took a few seconds, but finally Alex's bored and annoyed look faded into laughter; she was absolutely beautiful when she smiled, making the change a much appreciated one. "I was wondering what was up with that costume. Even Potter wouldn't be that stupid. Don't worry cutie; I'll cover your fee this time." She checked a small slip of paper. "You're our third stop. Go find yourself a bed."

"Thanks." More questions that needed answers.

"Leaky Cauldron." Alex shook him, just hard enough to wake him, an art she must have perfected over months or even years. "This is your stop, my little imposter." After a few more seconds, Harry was awake enough to realize she must have been referring to him and got up. "If you ever want to see me again, you know where to find me." Harry knew this was a rather nice idea, but couldn't quite remember how to react to it. Simply thanking her, he hopped from the bus, which promptly abandoned him on the deserted muggle road. Not bothering to look around, Harry rushed into the tavern, instead of waiting for more bullshit to fling itself at him.

Entering, quietly, Harry made straight for the door to Diagon alley, unheeded by the normal throng of pedestrians. "Hey! Are you going to be staying?" Tom called from the middle of a small group of patrons. Ignoring him, Harry continued out the door and into the alleys entrance.

Automatically reaching for his wand, Harry's hand grasped nothing. He still had no wand.

"Crap." That meant he would have to go back into the inn and talk to Tom. This, if he interpreted his earlier conversation with Alex correctly, would probably be a bad idea, unless he at least had enough gold to buy the man's silence.

Half-heartedly, Harry tapped the bricks in what he thought was the right pattern, hoping they were triggered by contact and not magic, then waited. About a minute later, they still had not moved. Turning back to the inn, Harry begged for the path to open; just as he reached for the door, something crumbled quietly behind him. Looking back, expecting a brick fell from the gateway into the magical world, Harry gaped at the now open entrance to the center of the business district in Diagon Alley.

"I guess someone let me in." It sounded odd, but made as much sense as anything else happening right then. Hurrying through the gate, Harry continued his trek to Gringotts.

"Where would Potter go? Did he have a safe house? Is he still in Britain? Is anyone helping him?" Moody had a hand firmly planted on both Ron and Hermione's shoulders. His natural eye stared into Hermione, unblinking, and the magical one Rom, waiting for one to give him a sign of weakness.

Hermione wiggled uncomfortably, which was all he needed to pull his wand on them. "Yes. I know you know. Out with it before I decide the red head's comfort is more valuable than yours is. I won't hesitate to curse you half dead to find out what I need. One must fight fire with fire after a-"

"Alastor!" Moody moved back a bit to give him room to maneuver and allowed his magical eye to swivel to Dumbledore. "They would not know that. Remember, they were the first to leave him, upon his betrayal. These are children, not death eaters." Moody took another step away, but didn't his sheath wand or turn away. "Stand down my friend."

"I've got my eye on you." Moody hobbled a bit further away and tucked his wand into his sleeve.

"Now then, I'm sure you have all heard of Potter's escape." Whispering broke out, but he continued, forcing them to silence themselves. "Miss Tonks here has already reported as much as she could to us and her memories of the event are being reviewed by a few of my old friends as we speak. However, we still need to learn more about what Harry did and more importantly, how he did it." The Order members who could make it to the meeting buzzed with speculation, which Dumbledore allowed briefly, before clearing his throat to silence them again.

"I would like several of you to go check the Hogwarts library for any spells relating to his interesting escape. Miss Granger?" Hermione stared with rapt attention. "I will need for you to document any books you remember Harry reading; it won't help much, but I know that if he has read any questionable books, you would remember. If necessary, please use the pensive I will provide you with later. I will meet you later to help you complete your list, and review the books."

"I still think those little bastards are holding out on us. We could make sure…" Dumbledore did not respond to Moody's grim suggestion. "Bloody brats will get us killed…"

Dumbledore continued, as if the interruption had never happened. "Ronald, Neville? I would like for the two of you to contact every one of your peers Harry was involved with, for interrogation. Moody, of course, will take care of the actual interrogation and documentation. The rest of you assist in gathering information on Potter's current whereabouts. This supersedes all Deatheater related orders. Meeting adjourned."

Order members filed out of Dumbledore's home office, towards the apparition room he had temporarily set up, leaving only the Headmaster, McGonagall and Moody. After a few moments of silence McGonagall spoke.

"How is Remus taking it? He hasn't been doing too well since Harry was convicted and the full moon…" She placed her concern well; Remus fell to pieces when he heard the news about Harry imprisonment in Azkaban. There wouldn't be enough of him left to worry about if he found out Harry was out and committing more crimes.

"I was wondering the very same. Could you please check in on him? If only for a few minutes, to make sure he hasn't done anything drastic. On my insistence, he's staying at the Leaky Cauldron, in a private room under my name; I made sure there are more than enough wards placed on it to prevent his escape, should he forget to take the Wolfsbane I left for him. Tom will know how to check your identity." Alastor and Minerva looked slightly annoyed at being sent on what amounted to a minor errand, but they wouldn't complain. Albus had provided him with potions so he could control himself, but if Remus still went feral, the two of them would barely be enough to stop him. That, however, was still better than the impossible task of subduing a werewolf alone.

Two near silent pop signified that the only people he could trust were gone, leaving the wizened headmaster to his studies. A battered and ink stained diary lay next to a giant snake fang on his desk. Next to the pair sat a tarnished ring with a large 'G' emblem resting upon it.

"Excuse me. I would like to withdraw money from my account, but I don't have my key with me." A rather annoyed goblin stared up at Harry. Speaking with it probably shouldn't have bothered the creature so much, but everyone he met seemed at least a little pissed at him, so Harry ignored its glare. "I would prefer if I could do this quickly." With a grumble, it pushed aside its own work and drew an oddly normal looking sheet of parchment from under the table.

"Would you like to retrieve you key, gain access to the vault or review your Gringotts and other bank accounts?" It asked. Now that Harry had time to think about it, he should have had at least one more vault. His parents had to have their own vaults, and he was bounds to have Potter family artifacts somewhere; only an idiot would drag family portraits and such with them while on the run from an evil monstrosity.

"I'd like to find out what vaults I have access to, please." The goblin looked slightly surprised at the please tacked onto the end, but that didn't put a dent in the disapproving look it gave him for interrupting its work.

"Very well." It scribbled something unreadable on a small slip of paper. With a tap of the Goblin's longest finger, the paper cleared itself for a moment, before more scribbles appeared in response. Glancing over it, the creature nodded to itself and looked up at him. "A vault access manager is free to see you. His is currently in the fourth office through the bronze door." Without missing a beat, the goblin returned to calculating something or other.

"Thanks." Harry made his way to the bronze door and with a slight push entered. The corridor, which would not regularly a fit into the reasonably sized building, stretched on at least a few kilometers, with doors every meter or so on one side and what might have been the corresponding portraits of goblins on the other. The fourth door was already ajar, waiting for him.

"Come in, human." Yes, his presence definitely pissed people off. Obeying the rather angry command, Harry entered. "Sit." Harry squashed down the desire to rebel as he sat in the chair provided. "You are here to review your account, correct?" Harry nodded, trying not to get angry. Yet another goblin pissed at him, because he asked them to do their job. "Please state your birth name." The goblin produced a thorny, metallic writing utensil and sat ready to write his answers.

"Harry Potter. I'm pretty sure it's just Harry and not Harold...and I might have a middle name too." Expecting some form of shock or some reaction to his name, Harry was almost disappointed when the account manager simply wrote in several spaces on the paper and moved on to the next question.

"Would you like a key to the vaults you may access or would you prefer to be marked so the tellers automatically let you into your vaults? If you would like a key, do you want the old ones dissolved or invalidated, returned to you or combined into one single key?" It looked up, and seemed to project through sheer force of will that it didn't want to explain how any of these options would come to be.

"I would like a key to each vault, one master key marked differently from the others and to be tagged to allow myself access to the vaults. The old keys should all be dissolved and invalidated." As if the creator of the form had foreseen the choices he would make, the goblin simply marked five boxes and moved onto its next question.

"Would you please cut yourself with this dagger and drip a few drops of blood on the red circle at the bottom of the form?" It waited a few seconds after producing the dagger, before looking up to Harry's unbelieving look. With a roll of its eyes, it explained. "Your blood with be tested magically. During the process, the pre-bound spells in this form will search for vaults that you can access by matching the blood and magical residue in that blood to magical signatures we have recorded. All injuries inflicted by the dagger are cleaned and healed within thirty seconds, which is how long it takes for the process to finish. Gringotts is obligated to destroy any trace of your blood after this procedure has been completed." Wanting to get it over with, Harry jabbed his index finger and allowed the wound to drip until it closed itself. A few seconds later, a large roll of parchment appeared at the bottom of the paper, bringing with it several metal keys.

"So these are the vaults I can freely access?" Unfurling the thick, goblin parchment, Harry read over it. There were about ten vaults on the list and besides each sat the amount of gold they held, the properties associated with them and similar things.

"Yes." Accepting that the goblin wasn't up for a conversation, Harry read through the list.

"Potter family vault: about eight hundred and seventeen thousand galleons. Potter personal vaults, segmented for individual Potters: the main vault contains all heirlooms, deeds to properties and money while the segmented vaults contain personal effects and money only. Each vault receives a monthly stipend of up to five hundred galleons from the main Potter Family vault, until the vault contains five thousand galleons." Looking up to the goblin, it sighed and answered his unspoken question of 'Why?'

"That's standard for a pureblood family. You, and most others, also have a reversed version of that, so that every personal vault will gain or lose money until it contains an exact amount of galleons." Once finished, the goblin returned to writing and Harry continued down the list.

"Marauder vault: Fifteen thousand galleons, with a monthly stipend of five hundred galleons from both the Potter and Black family vaults. Black family vault: a little over nine hundred, seventy thousand galleons. Wait, why do I have access to the Black family vault?" The other immediate items weren't quiet as interesting. Later, he would realize he should have read the list more thoroughly.

"I would assume the head of the family died and passed it onto you. You might have also become the head of the family through the elimination of other family members positioned above you in relation to the last lord." The goblin was becoming more annoyed every second that passed. 'I never have to deal with the competent people that lost their keys. NO! I get the idiots who don't even know how they gain access to a vault. Can't believe I haven't been promoted yet.' "You may keep the form and obviously the keys. The master key has been charmed to create a mark on your dominant hand, which will work as a master key to your vaults, when you intone 'grant access.' I suggest you do this now, as the charm only lasts for an hour." Following the goblin's instructions, Harry granted himself access and watched in fascination, as a large G faded into his palm.

"One thing before I go." The goblin stared at him for a moment, before asking him to continue. "Could I get something to let me make large purchases without carrying that much money?" If he never had to return to Gringotts for money, life would certainly be much easier. Next time guards might just attack him, or something else ridiculous, since the goblins already seemed to hate him.

"If you are willing to have a few hundred galleons removed from one of your vaults, then I could give you an enchanted bag. It comes with the standard antitheft charms you wizards use on your purses and will create sheets of information about the vaults whenever you press on the Gringotts seal on the front." Harry confirmed that he wanted one and the goblin pulled a small moneybag from a desk drawer. "Place the vault key or keys you want the bag to be able to access in it and state your name."

Dropping all of his keys in, he finished the spell. "Harry Potter." His name wrote itself lightly in golden letters along the opening. Clearing its throat to draw his attention, the goblin continued.

"If you would like to be able to summon specific amounts of money or specific items from the pouch, it will cost another few hundred galleons." Harry eagerly agreed to the price. Once Harry agreed, the goblin stroked the G on the pouch and whispered something in its own harsh language. "There are only three more enhancements I can offer now. A set of movement prevention charms that force it to remain in the same place always, the ability to create vaults remotely and the ability to place items into the bag to store them in a vault of your choosing. The pouch will produce a key that, if you choose to, you can summon and it will automatically update your master key, tag and vault list." The goblin stared him down greedily, as if it were getting a commission based on how many of those 'deals' it sold. Even so, they would be invaluable.

"I'll take it all." This time, the goblin took a small pendant out of its pocket and drew several symbols in the air. After only a few seconds, it was finished and the pendant retreated into its pocket.

"Bill the Potter family vault for the expenses. Good night." Placing everything in a new vault through the pouch, Harry attached the bag to his waist and stood to depart. However, before he could leave, one last thing had to be cleared up. "If you ever have any new features, how will you contact me?" With something as useful as this, they had to be developing new things or it regularly.

"We will send a notice to you by owl and through the bag. The first time you open the bag, the new message will be waiting at the bottom. Now if you don't mind, I have work to do. Some idiot has been… interacting inappropriately with muggle-born children, taking advantage of them in ways I would rather not mention; I must now replace him, document this properly with your ministry and send out dozens of apologies. He'll be lucky if our council only hangs him or if they let your people do what they want with him." Grinning with blindingly white, sharp looking fangs, the goblin was now starting to look truly angry, so Harry prodded one last time before he left.

"Who was he?" The manager gave him an odd look, probably thinking it didn't matter whose name he said, as a human wouldn't know who it was anyway.

"Griphook. Griphook of the Ironfist clan. Now if you don't mind, I have work to do." Noting that he had probably heard the name before...probably, Harry nodded and left the goblin to his work. 'Where to next?' Without an owl, he wouldn't be able to contact Dumbledore, but Magical Menagerie would probably be closed by now.

"I'll figure this out in the morning. I should just get a room for now." An armored goblin and a few clerks gave him an odd look as he left Gringotts, but used to stares, Harry paid them no attention. Once again, it was a quiet walk, the streets abandoned and silent giving Harry a chance to think about his wealth. Still pondering over what he could do with his massive fortune, Harry walked into the Leaky Cauldron completely ready to sleep. Unfortunately, as he tried to get Tom's attention, it seemed like sleep wasn't part of his near future.

"POTTER!" Recognizing the growl, Harry spun in the sound's direction. There, wands drawn, stood professors Moody and McGonagall both staring him down with a mixture of disgust and hatred.

"Hey! I was planning to contact you…what's wrong? You look kind of…aw, damn it." As Moody sent three blasting curses his way and McGonagall transfigured a nearby table into a bellowing Minotaur, Harry got the faint feeling that he wasn't quite in the Order's good graces.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Parseltongue/non human speech**_

_Spells/Foreign languages/ Dreams/Text_

Story

"I just want to talk!" Harry had been cornered in the hallway by the combined force of Moody and McGonagall's spells and was now stuck crouching behind a thick displaced table. Not that it would really help, as the Minotaur didn't seem to mind smashing things as it pursued him and Moody could magically snipe as easily as he could track him.

"Talk? TALK? We won't need to talk if you're dead!" The gruff, voice left no question as to which of his pursuers would kill him, but surviving Moody was a minor concern for the time being. The Minotaur, only about ten meters away, was gathering itself into a snorting heap in, what Harry now recognized as, a preparation to charge.

Glancing around, nothing noticeable seemed fit use as a weapon; the vase in the corner would only piss the beast off more and he was running out of space. His only options were the doors on either side of him. As the Minotaur pulled in one last bit of air, Harry made his choice.

"The door on the left it is then." As the beast charged, Harry rammed his full weight against the door. It was a bit excessive, since it was already slightly ajar, but he had no time for restraint. Barely inside the door, Harry saw his newest problem. The room only had two other doors, one already open to a bathroom and the other shut.

Considering turning back and dashing across the hallway, a half-human construct ramming through his table, smashing the wood into the wall, thoroughly dissuaded him. Over the inhuman roars of anger and possibly pain, the thunderous sound of a wooden leg crashing against the stone floor jarred him.

"Ok, I need a new way out NOW!" The Minotaur stopped splintering the ruined table and turned to face him. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." Ears twitching, it rose as tall as the confining hallway allowed and slowly approached the door, it's booming stamps almost rhythmic combined with Moody's hobbling and the faint sound of Minerva's boots.

Slamming the door closed, Harry looked over the room for something he could use. It was practically empty, so he abandoned the idea and moved onto the next room, just as the first door was blasted down.

"Stop delaying this Potter! Give yourself up or WE WILL KILL YOU!" The offer to surrender peacefully never sounded so bad. Examining the new room, only the withered and grey old man curled in an armchair stood out. Occasionally, he would wheeze bit, proving he was still alive, his thin frame otherwise apathetic to his own obvious illness.

"I'm sorry sir, but I need your wand!" The man shriveled a little more, curling into a tighter ball. Realizing that his voice was probably too loud for someone in such poor health, Harry moved closer and spoke again. "Sir, give me your wand. If you don't, we could both die." A brief look of pain flashed across the man's face, as his head raised just barely enough to see Harry. After staring blankly at Harry, he slowly reached out and poked Harry in the shoulder with a boney finger. A few more painfully slow seconds passed, as a smile mutated out of his expressionless face.

"So much like the real thing. Just like both of them." He dissolved into a more natural sitting position. "Oh god! I'm so sorry I failed you! I knew you would forgive me for it!" In a rather sudden move, he old man jumped forward and embraced Harry in a crushing hug, before Harry could even consider moving. "You won't regret this! I'll be your best guardian ever! This old werewolf won't die useless!"

Pushing the surprisingly strong man away, Harry stared into his face. His face, now full of mirth, still contrasted with Harry's memories of Remus, but he was the only werewolf Harry knew. However, unlike the rest of him, Remus' voice hadn't changed at all. It was definitely Moony.

"What are you doing here?" For a moment, Harry forgot the magical beast and dark-wizard hunter outside the door, that is, until it boomed with their efforts to open it. Looking over Remus' shoulder, Harry caught the door shaking a little, but still refusing to give. Another boom, this one more felt than heard, jarred the door, but still it stood. The wonders of magic.

"It doesn't matter Harry! Just come with me! Alright?" Remus smiled deliriously. A third boom, even louder than the others, distracted Harry for a moment, but Remus seeming to supply his own answer to the request. With no warning, he drew his wand from a pocket and merrily drew a short chain of glowing runes in the air. A merry jingling sound seemed to signify the collapse of the wards around the room.

The same wards that were holding the door closed, apparently. With a quiet thud, which seems thousands of times louder than the booms that assaulted them earlier, the door burst open, Moody's wand already ablaze with magic. "And away we go!" Remus spun them in place as a curse leapt from Moody's wand.

"NO YOU DON'T POTTER!" A blue tainted yellow spell flew from his wand, halfway through the sentence, when Harry's back was to him. Unable to see behind himself, Harry felt the magic collide with his back, as the room disappeared from view. "DAMN IT REMUS!"

The unpleasant feeling of apparition was never more welcome. As soon as they hit the ground, Remus dissolved into pathetic sobs, releasing Harry in the process. Harry, feeling awkward, ignored this for a second and checked his back for curse effects. His cloak, while longer and less frayed than before, was intact. Pulling it out of the way, he found his back completely unblemished, excluding, of course, the scars he had long ago grown used to.

"I shouldn't be here. Shouldn't have come back. No, He would have wanted me to be here. A werewolf destroying his family's home…Sirius was just like that." Harry turned, the clues in Remus' statement telling him almost everything he did not want to hear. Remus whirled his wand between his fingers, before tucking it behind his ear. "At least he made sure that werewolves can't get out without help, and only non humans can enter. He even figured out how to add a lunar stipulation. Bastard always showed talent in things after he needed it." That was not the rambling of a lunatic. No, that had to be the Remus he knew.

"What did you say?" No part of the earlier statement suggested a good ending to this meeting. Remus shook his head, ignoring him, so Harry grabbed Remus' shoulder and spun him around. "What. Did. You. Say. Earlier?" Remus stared for a moment before tackling Harry into another hug.

"It wasn't a dream! I wasn't hallucinating from…You're real!" Noting the hesitation, Harry slowly squirmed his way out of the crushing grasp, without ending the interrogation.

"I'll ask one last time. What did you say earlier? Tell me you were just joking." Remus looked thoughtful for a second, before he forcefully shoved Harry away. Taking the space thankfully, Harry stared down Remus, waiting for his explanation.

"HARRY! You have to get out of here! I don't know how you got here, but you have to leave now!" Tired of people pushing him around, figuratively and now literally, Harry, in a moment he would later admit lacked all signs of intelligent self-preservation, held his ground.

"What the hell did you mean earlier? You were just joking, right?" Remus pitifully shook his head. "You mean…"

"It's the full moon." Harry's bad luck chose this moment to take effect. As soon as Remus had forced out that small phrase, he fell to the ground wheezing, right in front of the only door Harry knew of to the outside world. Within seconds, the wheezes turned to growls and soon after, growls into snarls marking the completion of his mental transformation.

Muscles bulged, stretching and growing to accommodate for his new werewolf physique. His jaw stretched, teeth magically growing and elongating, unhindered by natural human limitations. Even after his mind had receded into itself, he screamed at the intense pain of the change.

At first, the scream was gratingly recognizable; it was the sound of a man undergoing pain that would kill any lesser animal. Then it became something more powerful. At the end of this howl, the wolf-like being locked eyes with Harry, issuing its challenge, but that soon changed, as well.

"I don't want to have to hurt you, Remus." The werewolf shook off several of the scraps of Remus' clothing before taking a step forward. Then another. And another. The large creature seemed to not notice his bluff at all.

However, Harry's life did not end at the paws of his temporary, self-appointed guardian. There was no lunge, forcing him to dodge away. No snarling attack, which would bring blasphemy to the lips of a holy man. Remus was almost…tame. After a few seconds of staring directly into Harry's eyes, it looked down and whimpered. Apparently, the 'Don't blink, don't move' strategy Hagrid ingrained in him years earlier still worked.

"You ok?" Whether it was what he said, or the way he said it, Remus' ears perked up and an almost calm expression, if Harry saw it right, took over. Then, just as suddenly, it vanished leaving Remus in a playfully subservient demeanor, head and tail down and body huddled to the ground whimpering occasionally.

'At least he's somewhat tame. If he stays like this, I can lock him in a room or get the hell out of here or something.' Approaching slowly, Harry maintained eye contact with Remus as he worked his way to Remus' side, towards the door. Reaching out, with a hopefully more peaceful expression on his face than he really felt, he pet the groveling werewolf, maneuvering himself closer to the entrance. 'Make friends and then get the hell out. Make friends and then get the hell out.'

As Harry's hand brushed against Remus' fur, the beast rolled onto its side, tucked its tail between its legs and moved its head to the side, exposing both its stomach and neck. "Good boy?" In a slow motion, Harry patted Remus and surprisingly, the werewolf responded by looking up and licking his hand. Feeling confident, Harry rubbed its belly and, in a move that would never be connected to the berserker wolf-man engraved in the minds of billions, it rubbed its head against Harry's arm. He could feel Remus' anger, his hatred for every human but him.

"Are you going to try to kill me?" Remus looked up blankly, offering no real response. "I guess you weren't sick enough to forget the full moon. Did you take a potion today?" Harry scratched its head and the beast's tail wagged happily. Then, suddenly, it rolled out of his reach and began sniffing intently around the room. "What's wrong boy? Hungry or something?" Although he didn't really respond to his question, the werewolves drooling grin as it gnawed on a table leg answered the question completely. Then Harry realized it was gnawing on the furniture. Sirius' furniture.

"Stop that!" It turned back to him quickly, then lowered itself to the floor and crawled over to Harry, pressed hard against the thin carpeting installed only a summer earlier. Its whimpers almost made him feel bad for stopping it from eating the furniture, but Harry wasn't about to let Sirius' house to be destroyed on a temporary non-human's whim.

Unnoticed by those occupying the room, the temperature dropped suddenly. "Don't worry boy, we'll get you some food." Now seeming to understand him, Remus the werewolf nuzzled against Harry's offered hand. As this continued, the inky black cloak wrapped around Harry began shrinking, conforming more closely to his body. The cruel emotions pouring off Remus filled him, spreading cross his body with the garment. As if he didn't notice this, he gave the werewolf all the affection he had seen people give their dogs on television over the years, scratching it and petting it kindly.

Then, in one laboriously slow, completely insignificant motion, Harry blinked, closing his eyes just as the black fabric rushed into them, bringing with it all the evil that was the curse of lycanthropy. In his mind, images of brutal and terrible slaughters played rapidly, showing him hundreds of deaths more than anyone ever had the right to witness, thousands of slaughters planned out against humans and humans alone.

Smiling, Harry took a step back from the fiend, darkness rippling over his body, distorting his features almost beyond recognition. "I suppose humans are a werewolf's favorite food, aren't they boy?" Remus who had been down on all four legs, stood and moved to his side. "Let's go for a little hunt boy." Understanding his master completely, Remus grinned.

"Thank god you're alive! Get up! Damn it, GET UP!" _I need to find a better place for next winter, if I'm not stronger by then. It's so cold…we could die if I don't find somewhere protected from the elements. The rituals and people I found help a little, but it won't do much without a body to go back to. This freshly hatched snake...Vasuki I think, still hasn't developed the magical ability needed for warming charms, either. If I could only find out why I was activated; find my other self. I know my main soul could not have been destroyed. If only I didn't have to support this damn weak hatchling. But I need to finish developing his young snake's magic, before I use my own or I won't have any reserves to go on if I run out. If only I could contact my main soul, or get back to England; at least this horcrux was safe. _

"GET UP!" _If I could find something alive, I could possess it and drain its soul and magic into us to speed this up. Nothing comes here though…not even rats anymore. I have to find some people soon…But I'm alive. I will survive, no matter how poorly. I am Lord Voldemort and I refuse to die._

Harry final awoke, his memory of someone else's thoughts fading from his mind. Stretching and looking around, he realized that he was buried in the shredded remains of what might have once been a mattress and, judging from the several different colors and textures, several destroyed sheets. Remus was stood over him, still trying to wake him up too. "What's wrong?" He was full, refreshed and completely ready to face the day.

"I transformed last night and I think I might have bitten you!" It sounded like it should have been a downer, but, for some reason, Harry simply didn't care. "We need to do tests to see if I bit you! God, I'm sorry Harry!" He seemed almost ready to have a panic attack so, on an impulse, Harry locked eyes with him and silenced him with a manufactured look of disapproval.

Digging through what he remembered from the previous night, Harry ran into a brick wall after he stopped Remus from tearing up a table. It normally would have worried him that his memory of a day stopped so abruptly, but on this day, it didn't seem very important.

"I remember you transformed, but I don't think you ever bit me." As Remus sighed at the partial removal of his guilt, Harry sniffed the room a bit. 'Dust, a large furry animal, feathers, death, rodents and a dog?' Not particularly caring to know how he identified these things by scent alone, Harry allowed his mind to wander and, somehow, figured out where he remembered a similar set of smells. "Why are we in Buckbeaks room? Wait. Never mind," It took him saying his question to realize the response was that had slept there. "What were you doing in the Leaky Cauldron?"

"I…I don't have a place nearby, anymore. I think Sirius might have left me something in his will, but I haven't been to the bank for a while. It was all Dumbledore could to convince me to stay there, but neither of us were thinking. I should have never learned warding spells." After a few seconds he chuckled a little, finding weak humor in knowledge hurting him.

"Ok. It doesn't really matter." Remus fidgeted as Harry burrowed back into his warm bedding, feeling the urge to rest a bit longer before he woke up. It was almost like he was a snake trying to finish digesting a big meal, something he had only needed to do his first day at Hogwarts. After a full thirty seconds of wonderful rest, Remus interrupted again with his old tirade.

"Please Harry! Get up so we can test you. You might not remember me biting you, but if my scent is on you, we'll need to check to see in another werewolf tracked you down and turned you to spite me." Barely tearing himself from his waking nap, Harry stretched once again and then stood. His clothes and cloak both looked unblemished, if not a bit cleaner than he remembered.

"I don't have a scratch on me. Why are you so worried? Think you attacked someone?" Apparently, he hit the nail squarely on the head, as Remus actually flinched when he said this. "You attacked someone? What happened last night?" Remus allowed his gaze to drop to the ground, unable to look at one of his possible victims.

"I…Yes." He took a few seconds to determine what to tell Harry, before slowly starting the obviously painful story. "I remember the feeling of companionship, like I was with another animal." Harry nodded, containing his disinterest. "James and Sirius have told me that I'm very empathetic when transformed. Usually, if Sirius was angry or playful, I was too. I guess I didn't imitate James as much because he was so far from canines, but I was pretty much Sirius' younger brother. He and James were like twins though... it was probably good that he was my best friend, even if his best friend was James." The subject drift allowed him a moment of peace, but he was back on topic after slight prompting.

"What happened last night?" Harry asked again.

Remus closed his eyes and seemed to think hard, before continuing. "I remember flashes of it. At first, I was somewhat drowsy, I think. Then, a powerful alpha found me and allowed me to follow it. The creature…it was in the mood for hunting humans…" He seemed on the verge of tears, but Harry didn't point this out as Remus continued. "We wandered around for a bit, before it led me to…an orphanage I think. There were too many children for it to be a house or a hospital. We somehow avoided trouble on our way there; I think it only wanted to eat and not fight on the way."

"Then what?" The story was steadily becoming more interesting, although Harry knew he should be deeply disgusted about what was surely coming up.

"We played with the children. We chased them through the halls, maimed those who fought and tore them to pieces, like they weren't humans. It ate a few of them, before dragging some of them away, leaving me with few of them. I ate most of two of them, and then bit some of the others badly; I know most of them won't survive." With this, Remus let out a stifled sob that sounded almost like a cough. Harry let him play it and those that followed off as a coughing fit, before asking his next question.

"Do you think any of them lived?" The question of why Remus remembered anything at all didn't occur to him.

"I know one of the girls it attacked will live, but from what I remember it doing before it dragged her and a few others of, she would probably be happier dead. One of the boys I bit seemed to be alright enough to crawl away as we enjoyed the others, so he probably lived." He did a quick mental tally, before relaying his answer. "I think only three that I bit will survive. Poor kids won't make it two full moons, though."

"Why?" It was actually starting to become entertaining to hear Remus recount his fragmented memories of a night of horror.

"Muggles can't survive full physical transformations like magical people do. After a few full moons, they typically become permanent beast, since they don't have enough magic to allow them to transform too many times. A few of them are a bit stronger and become part beasts, but they're just as bad." Remus seemed to be at his limit, half adopting a professional tone to answer him, but Harry didn't need any more information from that topic, so he let the subject change.

"Why were Moody and professor McGonagall attacking me?" This seemed to distract Remus completely, but the look of pain on his face didn't deplete at all.

"They attacked you? Well…Um…I know you're innocent, of course, but the rest of the world probably thinks you've gone dark." He paused to see if Harry would become violent, before tacking on a bit more to the end. "Everyone who thinks that also thinks you've joined Voldemort."

"Oh. Explain that a bit, please." That caught Harry's attention

He was running. He, Lord Voldemort, master of the darkest arts, heir of Slytherin, barely-mortal-god forging a world around his own will, was running. To be fair, he was running after a rare find that most true users of the dark arts would trade anything to own. He was pursuing a creature that was probably one of a kind, seemed to understand English, Parseltongue and some Latin and demonstrated new abilities constantly. If a bit of running would get him even a few samples from it, it would be worth every step.

"_**You needn't fear me."**_ While normally animals bowed before him, this one seemed to snicker, before dashing off further into the forest. It didn't even seem to be afraid; occasionally, it would turn and wait for him to catch up, before running off at speeds no natural creature should be able to achieve. It was playing a game with him. _**"Nagini!"**_ At his call, the augmented snake slithered past him, than slowed to match his speed.

She was simply beautiful, both one of his best creations and one of his most responsive test subjects. While most of her half basilisk, half-normal snake siblings died after a few of his rituals, she and her un-hatched brother survived through several he never expected to work. With the enchantments in her blood, augmentations in her scales and above normal natural abilities, he could only describe the serpent as beautiful. Especially when he started using her in his immortality rituals.

"_**Herd the creature back to me. Do not injure it, if you can avoid doing so. Don't kill it."**_ With those instructions, she shot off at an angle to him, already displaying a higher level of competence than most of his followers. With this, the chase continued, spiders' scattering through sun flecked, dead leaves to escape what their instincts told them was certain death, as the three serpents played an unholy game of tag.

"I didn't dream about Azkaban? You're completely sure that it wasn't a dream I told you?" Remus sighed at the tenth repetition of the question.

"I'm sorry Harry, but it's all real. If you show your face to anyone who isn't sympathetic, be it a civilian, an Order member, ministry worker or even a muggle photographer or police man, then the Ministry, Dumbledore and the Dark Lord will all be on our asses." Remus thought about what he said, before continuing. "I guess the last one goes without saying, right? Well, anyway, we need to get out of here in a day or two. Dumbledore has probably already checked over here twice, but who knows when someone will be coming back. Not that they could get in, but Moody and a few others could figure out we're here and that wouldn't end well for us." Harry let the statement sink in, before he realized why Remus worded it oddly.

"You're going to help me?" Remus simply nodded. "Why? Why put your life, future and happiness at risk for me?" For the first time that morning, Remus smiled.

"I've had no future since the moment I was bitten. Besides, what else can I do? I can barely find a job and I owe you this. I've heard things from Sirius, from Molly and the rest of the Weasleys. I know your childhood was a crappy one; one that would have been a lot nicer if you had a magical uncle around to keep an eye on your family. Our people's laws state that werewolves cannot act as guardians for children other than their own, but I could have been there for you, at least." At no point did he allow the negative emotions practically rolling off him to sour his expression, maintaining the somewhat cheery smile throughout his speech.

"Alright. So, what do we do now?" With a smile and a moment of close eyed concentration, Remus produced a long piece of parchment and a muggle pen. Looking satisfied with himself, Remus examined his creations and then passed them to Harry, creating a second set as he did.

"These are the first things I learned to conjure wand-less, you know. It was the third thing I managed wand-less and wordless." Unnecessary, considering his wand was still tucked behind his ear. Realizing Harry knew it was there, he explained himself. "Sorry, but I couldn't resist showing off a little. Old habits, you know? Anyway, write down everything you need to get and tomorrow we can set out and buy it. The closest magical area is Diagon Alley, but it should be relatively deserted right now, so it'll be safe. Make sure you add a wand to that list; wouldn't want to forget that, would we?"

"Where exactly would we be getting that wand? Ollivander's shop? He would probably turn me in before I'm through the door." Remus either physically waved the thought away or completed a charm that required he move his hand, as his pen started flying down his piece of paper writing out ingredients and books. "Enjoying this a bit, aren't you?" The pen stopped, before labeling a new section and continuing.

"Sorry, but I feel energetic for some reason. I hope it wasn't something I ate. Get it?" Harry felt a pulse of anguish pouring off the man, as he tried to put a funny spin on something that would probably haunt him for years to come, before the pen went into overdrive, scribbling out a word every second. "Ollivander doesn't take sides. He never has and still refuses to now. No one is allowed to attack him either; it's almost a rule of combat to not to. He would probably kill anyone who attacked him anyway; the old goat is more dangerous than he looks."

He struggled to explain something that had always been, before giving up with a shrug and watching his own pen work. As an afterthought hit him, he looked up and added to his statement. "Besides, I know a few disguise charms. Mr. Moony has certainly got a few tricks up his sleeve."

"Alright, but I've got one last question. Where are my things? I haven't seen Hedwig in a while either." Remus winced at having to deliver more bad news, as the pen vanished, leaving a piece of ink blackened parchment.

"A white owl? A little fussy?" Harry nodded. "Oh. Well… during the Order meeting after your trial, your little 'friends' stopped by. With all of your belongings." He hesitated, watching Harry to see if he could guess how his story would end before grudgingly continuing. "They burned everything but your broom, which Ronald kept and your father's cloak, which I have. Hermione…she tried to kill your pet, but the bird managed to escape; its wing was injured, so they didn't really care much." Harry stared blankly at him, hoping a little for more information. "Normally, she would probably be dead, but at the next meeting, Snape mentioned something about the Voldemort getting a new test subject. I'm sorry."

The calm, relaxed feeling that had dominated his mind that morning was finally beaten down by a single pure emotion. Anger. First it was a slight spark of anger at the loss of his pet and then it grew to embers of rage at the betrayal he had faced. After a while, it didn't really seem to have a focus or target, allowing the feeling to flood through him without weakening or diluting itself with reason.

The warmth and energy he had been feeling grew and grew, until suddenly the process reversed and he felt unbearably cold. Then, it stopped. It took a few seconds, but soon Harry realized that he didn't feel angry anymore. He still knew he had more than enough reasons to be pissed though. And he would get revenge.

"We get our supplies tomorrow, right?" He asked. Remus nodded.

"First thing tomorrow. A new wand! That's exciting, right?" Harry, let Remus approach and pat him on the back. "Don't worry, I'll get almost everything. You just get a new wand…and maybe a new pet." Remus tested, but Harry showed any sign of letting his anger manifest itself, instead simply nodding.

"Good." There was no sorrow. No annoyance. Only a smoldering anger that refused to burst into a new flame.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Parseltongue/non human speech**_

_Spells/Foreign languages/ Dreams/Text_

Story

As predicted, Diagon alley was almost completely deserted, this time occupied only by shopkeepers preparing for the slow day ahead. Few look twice as Remus and a young man, who looked oddly similar to the werewolf considering no one had heard news of him marrying, exited an alley between shops.

After a moment of speculation, most came to the conclusion that the two were not father and son, since the school year had already begun and instead uncle and a tragically orphaned nephew; many families had been torn apart by the Dark Lord's barely restrained rampage. In front of Gringotts, the two started a hushed, but energetic, conversation.

"I don't need to pick out my own books; anything I need should be in the Black library. I want my wand." While that would have been a normal statement a few weeks ago, most European schools were already in session. Added to that, the child was easily fifteen, bringing up more questions on his late preparation.

Remus quietly argued with him a few minutes, before the two seemed to come to an understanding. With the two finally in agreement, the boy reached into his dark robe and withdrew a small bag.

"How much will you need?" Remus refused for a short while, claiming the price should come from his own vaults, something that dissuaded most shopkeepers from listening in. Nearly all of them knew the brilliant, but poor lad that once accompanied James Potter on his destructive adventures and none of them wished to bring shame to the poor cursed boy. He deserved a little privacy.

"I don't need any money. Sirius probably left me a decent amount in his will and I should still have a bit from old odd jobs."

"The books are for me, so if you have to buy them for me, you should at least let me pay for them." Remus declined one last time, before carefully nudging Harry in the direction of Ollivander's shop.

"Don't worry about it. Just go get your new wand and look for a pet." Pausing to gauge Harrys' reaction, he gave Harry another playful push, before walking off to complete his own shopping.

Harry hesitated for a moment, before walking down the street, directly into his destination. For once, Ollivander was actually seated behind the counter, carefully working on his craft.

"Hello…Harry. Just a moment." Not at all surprised the extremely old man saw through the slight facial transfiguration and hair color change, Harry closed the door behind him and took a seat in the nearest chair. For minutes, the old man continued working on a wand, smoothing it and scratching out slithers with a silver instrument, before he abruptly stopped. "I suppose that will be good enough for now. How may I help you?"

Though he sounded normal, Ollivander was apprehensively tapping his desk, eyes occasionally darting from Harry to the unfinished project he had been working on. A few times, he even started to grab it, before stopping himself and refocusing on Harry.

"I'm here for a wand. Could you help me find another one, or make me a new one?" The old wizard slowly pushed his project further across the desk, against a stack of wood and metal tools, and stood.

"I'm sorry, but I may only issue one wand per civilian mage. Your wand was snapped, following a ministry sanctioned trial, so there is nothing I can do." A thin wave of sadness washed over Harry, trailed by anger, which steadily built as he sat in his seat and staring at the man. Reining in his emotions, Harry stood and waited for Ollivander to say something to break the silence. "As you can see, I was in the middle of a project, before you entered. If you could leave, peacefully, that would be wonderful." That explained why Ollivander stood; he was expecting a fight.

As Ollivander's left hand drifted to the opposite sleeve, Harry took his turn to speak. "Could you sell me instruction on how to make a wand then? Or refer me to someone else?" Ollivander's hand tucked itself into his sleeve, his eyes twinkling merrily all the while. "Or maybe tell me how to make some other kind of magic focus?"

"The ministry has strict laws about this, you know. I would consider ignoring them, if you could make it worth my time." Slowly, as to not provoke an attack, Harry withdrew his Gringotts bag. "Not quite. While I can always use more money, I would much rather have a few samples of your cloak. In fact, for a large strip and ten thousand galleons, I'll give you the items you want and pretend that this never happened."

"Why my cloak?" Ollivander's wand made its first appearance, as he moved around the counter.

"That isn't a common material; I've only seen it on the market twice in my long life and both times, it disappeared before I could purchase it. I would love to examine it." It seemed to be a slight understatement, as he was staring with chilling interest. "Now then, do we have a deal? Or, do I have to restrain you, contact the ministry and take what I want? If I say you stole it, I could probably get your whole cloak." He was only a few feet away, his eyes locked onto Harrys', daring him to put up a fight.

"Fine." As if he would have done so no matter how Harry answered, Ollivander's wand slashed through the air, the tip fading silver as it came to a stop. Though it was an impressive display of speed for someone obviously ancient, it did nothing.

"Interesting." With a slightly more complex movement, he launched another spell. This time, Harry got to actually see a purple sickle slide through the air, before it dissipated against the cloak.

His curiosity piqued, Ollivander reached out and grasped the spell resistant material. "What's wrong?" The old man froze, his fingers enclosing a fist-sized piece of the cloak. "Well?"

"This is their material…Yes, I can feel the magic in it...It's being abused! How dare you use it like this?" His eyes, already a faded hazel glowed brighter. Sufficiently confused and annoyed, Harry tried, in vain, to rip the piece of clothing from his grasp. With each tug, he could feel himself becoming stronger, as Ollivander started shivering violently. "No…No! NO!" Withered and breaking into a cold sweat, Ollivander continued protesting something. Still, he refused to release the cloth.

As Harry pulled, the world around him slowly dissolved into mist. "What the bloody hell is happening?" A child was running towards a house with another smaller child in tow. They were barely defined against the flowing haze, but Harry could tell that they weren't real immediately. It was peculiar, but this intensely reminded him of a pensieve.

"I made a better one than you did! I get to show them first!" He pushed his sibling out of the way and rushed through the door, locking it as he entered.

"No fair!" The child faded from the scene as the door closed.

"Mom! Dad! Look what I made!" The child presented a wand that, while not a masterpiece was better than what any other seven year old could possibly create. An adult experienced in woodcraft would love this child.

The father struck the wand from the child's hands, mocking him in another language before stomping it to pieces. For a second, the language was undecipherable, but snatches seemed to translate themselves to English after he growled them. "Worthless. Should have been killed. Little bastard." The mother cooed simpler phrases in a blend of the two languages.

"We love you. Always know that. Father is just angry at himself. He isn't gifted like you are." But the child was barely listening. His attention was focused on the snapped wand on the floor.

The mist became blindingly thick, before thinning once again. Now, a slightly older boy appeared being held back by his father; a single glance at the pair making it obvious that it was the same father and son from earlier. "Let go of me! I have to save mother and Mary! Please dad! Please!"

"NO!" The mist suddenly cleared, as Harry was launched into the door by a magical explosion. Trying to figure out what was happening; Harry looked across the room towards where he had been standing earlier. Ollivander was hunched over on the ground, weeping freely. In his hand, clenched into a tight ball, was a small piece of black cloth. A piece of Harrys' cloak. "No…"

Wands fell freely from their shelves, scattering across the floor. The desk behind him had been flung into the wall and embedded itself there, but true to the magical properties undoubtedly imbued in it, the wand and instruments on it showed no signs of being disturbed.

"Ollivander?" The man gave no heed that he had heard him, or even that he cared Harry was there. Standing and brushing himself off, Harry cautiously approached him. "What the hell just happened?"

Ollivander's wand rose, his hand shakily pointing it at Harry. "Stay away!" His aim was off by a mile, but the threat still stopped Harry for a few seconds. "Just leave us alone. We never did anything to you! Leave my mother alone!"

Harry took another step, before yanking the wand out of Ollivander's hand. "Stop that!" The old man continued to embarrass himself blubbering, so Harry directed the stolen wand at its owner. "Stupefy."

Ollivander slumped over onto the ground, thankfully not needing to fall far. After a few seconds, Harry pointed the wand at him again. "Ennervate." Ollivander seized up, before pushing himself to his feet. As Harry stared incredulously at him, he failed to meet the younger man's eyes.

"Yes…L-let's get you your foci, shall we?" Looking a thousand years old, he shuffled to the back of the shop and opened a door. Harry followed wordlessly, unnerved by the sudden change of demeanor. The back of the shop was nothing like the front, lengths of wood lying everywhere and tables stacked with ingredients in glass jars. Ollivander walked through and on the woods carelessly, breaking several pieces of wood, until he found a table that was reasonably clear. "My wand."

Harry handed the wand over, taking care not to drop it onto the littered floor. They might never find it if he did. Ollivander twirled the instrument for a second, before jabbing it towards the cluttered floor. As he did, samples of woods rose and following his conductions, floated towards them.

"Grab ones that feel right." The woods started to cycle in front of Harry and attentively, he reached out to be ready to snatch one away. It took a few minutes, but eventually Harry found every sample of wood that he liked and stacked them on the table.

"Ok. I'm done." Ollivander barely looked at Harrys' wood choices, before summoning larger pieces of the same varieties.

"Alright. Now for your core." Floating the woods in front of them, Ollivander lead Harry through the room, passing dozens of shelves of wand cores until they had found every single one that made Harrys' hand 'tingle'.

"You'll want to read my book later. You can improve this wand. Your hand please." Harry reached out, and the ingredients floated around it. Looking to Ollivander, Harry realized that there was more to the instructions, as there was a small vial of potion and a dagger floating between them. "Cut your hand. Mix a few drops of your blood with this potion." Jabbing his pinky with the knife, a small trickle of blood worked its way out of him and into the vial.

"Now what?" A cauldron appeared on the desk, pushing books and samples out of its way. The woods went in first, then the vial and finally the opaque sealed containers of ingredients as a dozen small silver rods stirred the liquid at varied speeds and directions.

"This will produce a basic wand for you. We'll come back once it's done, so I can fine tune it. Visit again in a year for me modify it to perfectly fit your magic. The foci are next." Harry nodded and followed Ollivander deeper into the workshop. On a large rack, sat dozens of unique looking objects, which Harry could only assume were magical foci. Some looked similar to children's toys, others the skulls of animals and two looked like scepters from what he had seen in the muggle school's history classes. "Take three. It doesn't matter which."

Avoiding the scepter that looked suspiciously like a used prophylactic he had once seen floating in a toilet, Harry picked up the other scepter, a glass eye and a silvery blue ring. Ollivander was barely paying attention as he banished the items towards the cauldron. "The wand is ready." He walked off without Harry and disappeared amongst the shelves.

Looking around for the wandering crafter, a small open case caught Harrys' eye. Navigating closer to it, he glanced in before looking away somewhat ashamed. It was the snapped wand from the vision.

It took five minutes to find Ollivander again after they parted and by then, the crafter was already finished drawing precise runes onto the wand and sanding it down to a perfect size. Looking exhausted, he dropped the wand onto the table he was working on, on top of several small worn notebooks and journals.

"Your wand, copies of my families findings and three magical foci." Another book was summoned from behind Harry, this one looking much newer than any of the others. "This is a copy of my life's work. The use of magical foci, how to improve wands, the magical properties of wands, wand-less magic… everything I've ever researched is in here." He pushed the pile towards Harry. "Your payment."

Harry looked over the small pile, before creating a new vault and storing them all away in it. It took another few seconds to concentrate firmly on the Potter vault, but in a few more seconds there was a large stack of uniformly bound galleons on the desk, each five centimeters in height; according the small numbers printed on the tops of each case, a hundred galleons were in each column. "Will you be ok?" It didn't sound like a normal question after such a transaction, but the ancient man wasn't exactly normal either.

"Yes." Ollivander whispered. He still couldn't meet Harrys' eyes.

"Who is Mary?" Harry thought he saw twin tears seeping down the old man's face, but poor lighting in the shop made it impossible to tell.

"She was my sister. Spanish Jacobite supporters were moving their men to the main army. They amused themselves with my mother and sister's bodies, just outside our house, before moving on. Father didn't let me stop them. I know could have…" There wasn't anything to say to that. Even counting his parent's deaths, which happened to early for him to remember unaided, his family was never abused like that. Hell, even his parent's deaths were intended by the enemy. Troops raping them…

"Goodbye." The wand didn't give Harry a surge of joy like his first had. Its shower of sparks was instead a foggy mutant creature, a twisted human torso connected to a large snake's body. Yes, every move of the wand came with a small rush of strength, but it was an oddly abnormal feeling. "Not holly and phoenix feather, but you'll do."

Harry didn't realize he was in front of Magical Menagerie, until he walked straight into the store's wall, the door a foot to his left. He quickly tucked his new wand into his pants as he opened the shop's door, eyes already exploring the selection.

"How can I help you today?" The proprietor was a remarkably owlish looking middle-aged woman, who had to be an animagus. If Hedwig had been a human, it would be easy to imagine that she would have looked like this woman, but considering her lack of noteworthy attractive features, that may be an insult.

"I'm browsing for a new pet. My owl died not too long ago." She offered his an apologetic but cliché utterance, before leading him to her selection of birds.

"What kind are you looking for? One that can make North-Western European deliveries overnight? We have a few hawk and falcon imports that have never failed a delivery yet. Oh and there is a new macaw breed that is just amazing; they can actually dictate your messages for you!" She smiled endearingly at him.

"I'll take the five best birds for fast, far, long, reliable, and large deliveries. One macaw too. Now then, could I see your other animals?" She stared at him, not believing that he would shell out the money for the high priced birds, so Harry continued perusing her animal selection. He was deeply disappointed.

"This isn't quite what I expected." From the way everyone always carried on about magical creatures, it seemed natural that they would be readily available if you had money. The most magical beasts the shop carried were krups and kneazles and most of them were neutered according to the signs posted outside their cages. "Listen, I've got more than enough money for any purchases I make here. Where are all of your good animals?" She seemed confused for a second, before a sunny smile possessed her face. It was bright enough to burn a plant; vampires would think more than twice about attacking her when she was in a good mood.

"Oh…I've got just the thing!" She grabbed his arm over his cloak, before recoiling away, as if she had been struck. "Yes…anyway, right this way." Her hurt look lasted only a second, as she bounced ahead of him passing iridescent rabbits, pocket sized bears and a frog that was quietly singing a somewhat catchy tune to itself. Finally, they hit a solid wall of tiny puffskins and she stopped. "Aren't the little things amazing?"

One of the ones closest to the glass quivered, before violently launching itself at them. In a few seconds, all of the miniature creatures were hissing and bashing their little fluffy bodies against the glass tank.

The shopkeeper didn't notice. "They're receptive to every kind of magic there is! Older ones are usually attuned to general light magic, but some have been known to absorb parts of wards and even spells that hit them! Why, back…" She continued, babbling on about something Harry had no interest at all in, as he though over the values and uses of the little creatures.

"So, they absorb magic, right?" She stopped and nodded. "All of their body can do it, right? Including their fur or…whatever else they have?" She beamed at him. Thinking back to the Krups he passed, he carefully added in another question. "Can they breed?" A gasp of horror alerted to a mistake in his questioning.

"Oh, please don't let them try! The magic they absorb is forced into their children and it kills most of them within days. So long as you don't let them stay wet for more than, say, an hour, they won't try though. Besides, a child could see it." Knowing he should probably feel bad about his plans for the creatures, he nodded, accepting her response. It wasn't a griffon, phoenix or wyvern, but it would do.

"Give me fifty and a lot of food."

"You bought fifty baby puffskins." Remus dropped several large bags of books, each one filled with shrunken bags off more items, onto the floor in Harrys' temporary room. Setting his priorities, Harry reached into the goblin bag he had received only a day earlier and started to unload his purchases.

"Pygmy-puffs, actually. It's not a big deal. They can absorb magic better than any other animals there, so I figure they might be useful. Besides, the bird-toys were never very entertaining to Hedwig."

Harry could feel Remus' stare, as he examined a rather small falcon. Although it was perched inches away, it ignored its new master, preening itself carefully.

"So you are going to kill FREAKING PUFFSKINS?" A strange hunger grew within Harry, as he thought about murdering the fluffy little bags of uselessness, breeding more up and killing any who didn't manifest the abilities he wanted. The idea of killing them was making him hungry. Weird.

"I'm not seeing the problem." Remus grabbed Harry by the shoulders and shook him somewhat violently.

"They're puffskins! You don't do that to puffskins! You! Just! Don't!" Releasing Harry, he went back to checking through his purchases to make sure he had everything, regret for his previous actions already showing. "I know you were raised by muggles, but you can't kill puffskin. It's like killing a puppy, or kitten while a little kid watches." Harry thought about that for a second, before moving to look over his other birds. That suggestion also brought up a strange feeling of hunger. "Azkaban has changed you."

'Azkaban?' "That reminds me! Every time someone touches my cloak, they act like they just got bit on the ass by a dementor." Remus shivered, from the analogy or something else, Harry could only guess.

"I haven't noticed, but I'm not a very good person to ask. Dementors don't have as strong an effect on werewolves as they do on normal people. You sure it's your cloak that's doing it?" A massive eagle, a Harpy eagle if Harry remembered the shopkeepers descriptions, screeched, defending its territory of a dilapidated dresser from the same small falcon from earlier. The falcon launched itself away, snatched up a puffskin that had escaped from an overturned box, and brought it back to the eagle. It didn't completely appease the larger bird, but at least they quieted down.

"I'm pretty sure. Ollivander did something strange when he tried to cut a piece off; we shared a vision about him getting his wand broken and his sister getting raped." Remus stopped, dropping his list of items, checks scattered across it randomly.

"I guess I could understand that making you want to kill puffskin…you're still messed up though." Although Harry couldn't see it, Remus smiled at his own attempt to lighten the mood.

"How messed up I am isn't important. I saw his worst memories, until he blasted me across the room. That isn't normal, is it?" Another puffskin hopped out of the box, displaying its limited intelligence. It lasted half as long as its predecessor, before the same falcon snatched it up and brought it back to the Harpy-eagle. Pleased with the smaller bird's catch, the eagle started ripping apart, as the falcon preened its large master's back. "I haven't really been feeling normal for a while now."

"How so?" Worry crept its way into Remus' voice.

"It's mostly this odd hunger…the food you brought in earlier didn't help much. It's hard to explain." He could almost see Remus thinking the information over, trying to piece it together.

"Don't worry. Anyone would be a bit disoriented after time in Azkaban. You just need some rest, while your body gets used to moving and such." Remus sniffed at him, completely over exaggerating both the action and then his reaction. "Maybe a shower too. Have you even changed clothes yet?" Harry shook his head, still pondering over the strange happenings that followed him. "Want me to go and pick up some clothes? I could run out and be back in a few minutes. You can get out of that hot cloak, either way." Take off the cloak?

The suggestion made no sense. The cloak was just so comfortable. He didn't notice its weight, or the fraying edges, or the way it seemed to catch a nonexistent breeze, flowing under the force of an intangible wind. 'Now that I think about it, I don't remember ever having a cloak this well made.'

"I think that's part of it. I don't know how, but this cloak is definitely not normal. I never had one like it, before I woke up." He could faintly remember seeing a similar cloak somewhere, but just couldn't place where.

"You look like you're imitating Padfoot." Another puffskin wandered out, though this time it was snatched up by a medium sized hawk. Distracted by its loud cry, Harry tried to get back to the previous subject.

"Sirius." The name brought up a large snake, poised and ready to strike. Squashing down the miss associated memory, Harry forced a massive, black dog merrily chasing a stick across a yard into his mind.

"He used to dress up as a grim reaper to scare people." Flipping open 'Magic in You' Harry could practically see his godfather stalking someone for days in his various forms, just for the hell of it.

"I could see that." Remus let out a small sound, somewhere between hum and a snicker. "But about the…" Remus visibly tensed, as the room filled the room with an angry rumbling sound. Eyes darting everywhere, the ex-professor drew his wand and slowly moved Harry behind him.

"Something is here." A deeper rumbling sounded, this one slowly becoming louder. For a few seconds, Harry tried to place the sound, before a part of his mind tossed an answer to him. It was a growl. Looking to Remus, the next question followed naturally. Was Remus growling?

For a moment, he considered asking, but that would just plain be idiotic. If Remus, the level headed Marauder, was growling in his human form then shit was about to go down.

"Stay behind me and be quiet. I smell…a lot of things down there. I can't believe I wasn't more careful…" Still growling, he managed the impressive feat of whispering, as he stalked towards the door. As Remus moved out, Harry took aim at Remus' back with his new wand, spells flying through his mind. Once Remus was out of the door, Harry grudgingly followed, duty and curiosity winning out over intellect.

"How do you know something is here?" They reached the stairs without incident, the growl stopping occasionally for another inhuman sound to be produced.

"The growl…don't you hear it? Nothing should get through the walls, so it has to be coming from in here." Remus, completely focused on the intruders, missed Harry lowering his wand slightly. "It's two beings…I can't tell what they are, but I know there are two of them."

Harry said nothing as Remus swept his wand towards the stairs, dispersing a light grey mist over them. Without hesitation, he hopped down them, the normal sounds of the aged wood muffled by his unnamed spell. In a few seconds, a much shorter time than he expected, they were before the kitchen, crouched next to the door.

"I'll go first." Harry considered arguing, before nodding. The situation simply wasn't fit for that right now. "Be right back." As Remus sprang through the door, curses immediately started to fly. The battle lasted all of ten seconds, before Remus released a pained yelp. Then everything fell quiet. Maneuvering himself closer to the door, Harry peeked in.

The kitchen was gone. The room, already in disrepair, barely looked like a kitchen anymore. In a battle that seemed more like a small explosion, the counters had been pulverized, the ceiling scarred and small furniture positively splintered. Remus, mutilated and bloody, hung from the wall opposite the door, probably unconscious, though from blood loss or the pain caused by the glinting metal spikes suspending him by his hands, Harry couldn't tell. Before the fallen mage, a strange creature paced, both hissing and growling musically. And, in the center of the room stood…

"Hello little Potter. You seem well. I suppose you enjoyed Azkaban more than I expected. Was it such a bore that you escaped simply to entertain yourself training this mutt, or are you out to chase mudblood skirts? Either way, I suppose your vacation wasn't as good as I expected it to be. If I had anything to do with it, you wouldn't have needed to escape for a long time…" Voldemort hadn't yet turned to face him; instead he stared at his downed opponent as he talked, continuously casting torture spells that brought tired whimpers to the already defeated man, much to the Thing's amusement.

Harry didn't hear a word of it though. As he took in the scene, something flooded his senses, ringing loudly in his ears, overwhelming his brain with the desire to attack. The emotion was stronger than anything he had ever experienced…rage? Anger? It didn't need a label.

With a roar that didn't belong to his body, Harry sprang forward, spitting two words that no one would have expected to come from his lips only a short time ago. "AVADA KEDAVRA!" The curse jumped from his wand, slightly pale compared to other killing curses he had seen, but that didn't matter as it never even got close to Voldemort.

Without a twitch, Voldemort let the curse fly over his head, bypassing the creature he brought with him and, with a spray of green sparks, it hit inches above Remus' left arm. Instead of the wall being destroyed, the curse merely left a scorch mark, which Harry didn't see as he took aim and tried again.

"AVAD…" An invisible force lifted Harry, slamming first into the ceiling and then into a wall. Struggling only to keep his wand, Harry tried to complete the curse, only to find that he couldn't speak.

"That wasn't very nice. Didn't any of your mudblood pets teach you manners? Well, no. I suppose your mother couldn't, so what about the disgraceful blood-traitors?" Harry now physically struggled against the curse, wand forgotten, as he tried to attack Voldemort. "No? Well, I suppose the curse makes up for it. If only you were more powerful and maybe a better duelist. If you had better aim, you could have at least distracted me from your pet." Remus howled in pain, as a silvery spike appear, and then slowly punched its way into his stomach. "You could be so powerful, if you would just join me; I would even spare your werewolf pet. The world would be yours."

Another invisible force dragged away Harrys' wand as the rage which had controlled him before faded. His first thought almost didn't come as he struggled to wrap his mind around being completely at Voldemorts' mercy. 'I'm going to die.'

"I suppose I'm a hypocrite, aren't I? Speaking of manners, without introducing you to this creature. I just caught him a few hours ago." The horrific creature at Voldemorts' feet turned, rising to its full standing height. It couldn't have been a natural being. Its whole body shone silver, furthering it from any hope of being mistaken for an animal. Its torso was disturbingly human, possibly matching a werewolf, excluding a misplaced patch of scales covering the center of its chest.

Pure werewolf features dominated it's arms and legs, but it's tail…it was like a bunch of artist and craftsmen got drunk and grafted a whole snake and fleshy ribbons to the creature, simply to see how it would look. The worst of it all was its head, which was not only furry and scaly, but also featured an extended canine jaw with several massive fangs and ovular skull, a set of long fangs wrapped around it to the point that they imitated a set of tusks.

But its eyes…those eyes burned themselves into Harrys' mind. The large silvery-blue orbs glinted with gentle curiosity, hunger and savage fury, a mixture Harry had never encountered to any extent before.

"I named him Loki. Loki, please go and greet Harry." It stalked towards him clumsily, possibly hesitant to approach him or unable to move its twisted body fast. "Harry, won't you introduce yourself to the creature that led me here?"

Harry responded by thrashing harder. 'I have to get out! I HAVE TO GET OUT!' The force holding him suddenly waivered and then fell, dropping the still thrashing Harry onto the floor. Before he had even started to realize he was free, another force pinned him to the floor. Loki wasn't so clumsy anymore. Seeing that Harry was once again pinned, Voldemort approached calmly.

"Nice save." He stroked the creatures head approvingly, before it pulled away to stare with unabridged hunger at its pinned prey. "You can have a bite if you want, but don't bother trying to kill him." The creature hissed approvingly, almost sounding serpentine. This distraction did not last very long, as it immediately bent its head down and, with as much curiosity as Harry had ever been the subject of, nipped him with its fangs. Its teeth slid through his shoulder like it was butter and there was a muffled clicking sound as the large fangs either reached each other or bone. With their length, either was possible.

Staring as this, it was almost as if Harry was watching from beyond his body. He knew it had to hurt. He knew the blood rushing merrily from the opening created as the creature removed its fangs wasn't at all pleasant. But he was more focused on the eyes of the creature.

As it inflicted this injury upon Harry, its slivery eyes widened in pain. Once its fangs were free from his shoulder, it pitifully licked the wound, nuzzling and whimpering against his shoulder. Slowly it shifted its weight off him and began treating an invisible injury on its own shoulder.

"Interesting." Voldemort levitated Harry, twisting the him so they would be face to mutated, inhuman face. An irritating itch began in the wound, slowly growing into an intense, burning pain. Just as the spikes embedded in Remus' hands steamed, a thin mist rose from the wound, bringing with it what may have been an equal pain. "I was right; the venom doesn't work on you." He stared deep into Harrys' eyes, the mind behind them completely at his mercy. "Or maybe, the little prophecy Dumbledore told you just before your little animagus conflict was actually true."

Harry would later admit it was pitiful to show weakness in front of Voldemort, but the pain was greater than anything that he had ever experienced. If his facial muscles weren't trying to severe their ties to the rest of his body and his vocal cords weren't shriveling away from their surroundings, he would have screamed. If his colon and bladder didn't tense in ways the organs had never needed before, he would have soiled himself. If his very eyes and blood were not mutinously writhing and foaming, he would have known what happened next.

"Such an interesting creature you are Loki." Harry dropped at Riddle's feet, unaware he had even needed to support himself. The beast, Loki as he was called, was in a slightly better condition, barely able to whimper, despite there being no signs of injury on its body. "At least mildly empathetic, but only after certain events trigger it. For now though, you are an important specimen."

A healing spell, followed by a numbing spell and a calming enchantment gave a moment's relief to the beast, but it continued to squirm. Delaying the inevitable, he moved his hand loosely in the Remus' direction, removing the silver spikes that had been burning through the man's battered hands. Seconds later, the injuries scattered across his body stopped bleeding.

Loki only seemed mildly relieved and continued whimpering, louder. With an unheard sigh, Voldemort cast a healing spell at the relatively small wound on Harrys' shoulder, but the cloak around it absorbed the spell. "It seems I can't heal Potter…He will die with what little dignity he deserved." Loki hissed encouragingly, unable to do much else.

"Avada kedavra." Preparing himself to escape an event similar to the incident years earlier, he was almost surprised as the spell sank into Harrys' flesh, stilling the boy's loud heart. The point of contact, the center of his chest roughly on his sternum, sizzled with magic and the cloak around it melted away into small knots exposing his chest.

For good measure, one more killing curse was launched at the same spot, this one actually bringing a disfiguring scar, magically radiating the intent of the spell. Loki rolled to its feet and crawled over to the gaping wound. Sniffing it, the creature licked at the blood rising up to fresh air until it was satisfied their foe was dead and purred.

"Come now. You have shown me your 'home', let me show you mine." Loki tilted its head, as if trying to understand the words, but Voldemort knew it could. The beast's intelligence was staggering. As Loki nestled its smooth, scaly head into his hand, Voldemort allowed his headquarters to take precedence in his mind. Whispering a secret in Parseltongue and forgetting to finish off the half dead lycanthrope, the two disappeared abruptly from the bloodied, disheveled room.

Hours passed, blood everywhere drying and congealing. The molten edges of Harrys' cloak fell away, dispersing into a solid mist around him.

More time passed. The mist became a film, a sludge consuming Harrys' body. After a full day, the cloak, now practically a robe, reformed around his body. Only then did his eyes open and, for the first time in more than a day, he spoke.

"Oww."


	5. Chapter 5

_**Parseltongue/non human speech**_

_Spells/Foreign languages/ Dreams/Text_

Story

Hundreds of carefully labeled bottles rattled as a wave of magic passed over them. Two separated themselves from their niche in their cupboards and started to fall, but before one could even imagine them hitting the ground, they slowed to a stop in dense air. Severus spared them only a moment, his eyes darting up to the two, then the cupboard they fell from and then back to his work. Dutifully, the bottle levitated itself back up to its proper place.

An angry pair of red eyes and a wise pair of blue seemed undisturbed by this, continuing their experimentation. Silvery hairs, sparkling fluids and even shiny beige slivers of skin were repeatedly drawn upon, as the three carefully worked; each used in small measured amounts with another substance, while a deft hard darted across a long sheet of parchment.

It was peaceful. One might expect a slight attachment to form between the three working practically side by side, but it was unnecessary and unwanted by all of them. They knew who was the most powerful in this situation and what was expected of each of them. As long as they respected that, nothing but their skill would be asked of the others. All for the sake of knowledge.

Lord Voldemort would have sighed in relaxation if he were a lesser being. This environment. This test of his skill. This race against others, equally accomplished in their own fields, was what the dark lord had lived for in his youth. A potions master, alchemist and him, a skilled practitioner of rituals that seeped deeply into the all-magical fields, working together in a silence like none other. It was magnificent.

Loki was quite an oddity apparently. Severus failed, so far, to locate the relationship between samples of it and the effect it had on other magical substances. Xavier was having equal difficulty; however it was probably more from the wizard's illness ravaged body than the difficulty in identifying each sample's properties.

The man aged like a muggle, already weakening at sixty-three, but that too wasn't his fault. A child naturally skilled with alchemy was rarely born to the same generation of a family's as a necromancer and neither brother ever gave the other amnesty after their years of fighting for the spotlight. He would be dead by eighty, if his brother has his way.

Carefully managing four samples of sterilized fur, he allowed freely grown human flesh to absorb the offerings, each imbued with a different variety of controlled magical energies. As soon as the fur was absorbed the flesh started reacting, varying from mushrooms sprouting to the flesh exploding in a cloud of grey mist.

'Different, violent reactions- highly susceptible to higher controlled magic.' He jotted down with his left hand, as his right removed pieces of the mutating flesh and stored them away in time slowing. A vial corked itself, as his magic flared at a disturbance, barely sealing before it rattled enough to spill its precious cargo. Before the…interruption could make its presence known, he allowed a light chuckle to sneak its way out of his throat.

"I expected better from you, Lucius. Come to your master's side." The aristocrat was next to him immediately, babbling an apology for something or other, but Voldemort ignored him. After a full thirty seconds, Lucius realized he had made a mistake that would probably cost him something dear to him and quickly knelt in submission to his master. He was still ignored.

Now, however, he knew better than to call attention to himself and stayed in that position, his face inches from the dark but surprisingly clean floor. It was another five minutes until Voldemort gave a simple and direct question, allowing him to stand once again.

"What failure do you grace me with now?" A smirk stole his royal features, before he remembered whom he was standing before and his own life's value.

"We have located and acquired the first artifact, my lord." It wasn't particularly difficult to bully the priceless item away from the Slavic mutt, but finding him had been hell. However, the Malfoy family rose to where they were because of their political, social and magical prowess, so such an admission would never find its way out of his mind. Unless stolen, of course. "It was in the care of a Ukraine priest in Northern Moldova, who knew nothing of its value. He believed it to be a simple trinket for communing with spirits who had passed on."

Voldemort could hear Severus slow down slightly, listening without shame to the report. Dumbledore would invariably track down the Eastern European and bleed him dry of information the moment Severus left his sight, even if Lucius was smart enough to not give a name. Xavier listened with slightly less interest, possibly considering the worth of such an item to one wishing to learn the arts of the dead, but he wouldn't dare make a move for it. A Ravenclaw with the spine of a Hufflepuff.

"Is that all?" Lucius nodded, almost amicably. The more things asked of him, the greater the chance he would make a mistake. "Your punishment is waiting still, but you have proved your worth. For now, at least. Dismissed." A snap, this time similar to a twig being broken, sounded as Lucius disapparated. At the rushed departure, Voldemort allowed a smile to twist his demonic form.

'I always wanted to truly master necromancy.' His experimentation continued in an elegant silence.

Ignoring the ache of defeat, which, surprisingly hadn't settled into his body as deeply as he expected, Harry forced his body to stumble over to his fallen guardian. The werewolf lay atop a shattered table, a lightly chipped teacup just a little to the side of his head. His hands seemed to the only visible injury on him, stigmata still smoldering despite the lack of visible cause.

"Crap. He got you bad. Remus!" Unaware of the proper protocol for awakening an unconscious werewolf after it got its ass handed to it, Harry shook Remus' shoulders roughly. A grumble, then a whimper finally discouraged him once the shaking had become a bit too violent. With a groan, Harry shifted the much heavier man, though his gaunt looks would say otherwise, against the wall, to which he had been pinned. Already feeling the urge to empty his, by now already barren, stomach from exertion alone, Harry allowed Remus to fall over onto his shoulder and, with great difficulty, stood.

It, however, was for naught as Remus chose to resist the help the moment he hit Harry's shoulder, squirming away from the unbalanced hold until he once again dropped to the ground with a sound thud.

"Screw it." Harry left the unconscious man on the floor and started towards the door to the kitchen. Slowing as he passed when he lay until moments ago, his foot collided with a light piece of wood that painfully reminded him of one of his renewed problems. His wand, which Voldemort had summoned, was most likely gone. He was wand-less. Again.

A half hours search through the demolished room turned up only, what he could assume to be half of Remus' wand; the other half disappeared to parts unknown. Carefully collecting it and the other wooden splinters that looked like they could be part of it, Harry cursed silently.

If getting killed hadn't muddled his memory, he still had magical foci, but the usefulness of the items was debatable. Waving a scepter around would swell his ego rather nicely, but against someone who had training with a wand and a desire to kill, it would probably only make for his quick, bloody death.

Harry stared at his temporary guardian's unmoving body, wishing for guidance in the matter, before he gave and started for Buckbeak's room. 'I guess I can get things ready so we can get the hell out of here.' The house held a few fond memories, but those wouldn't be enough to brave another attack by a Dark lord, especially without a good weapon. Halfway through the kitchen, a sudden groan sounded from directly behind him, along with an abrupt shattering sound.

Tensing automatically, Harry turned only to lock eyes with Remus, who looked equal parts amazed at his survival and confused. "We need to get the hell out of here." Although he didn't seem to have a full limp, he still looked slightly unbalanced as he walked straight past Harry. Paying his respects to the now crushed teacup, who had survived long beyond its brethren, Harry quickly followed his elder, overtaking him just after the stairs.

The open door was…well, still open. Nothing seemed to be damaged by the epic battle that had taken place on the first floor. The room had instead had faced a war of its own.

Puffskin fur, matted with a light brownish red blood, was everywhere. Remus, who entered the room a moment after him recoiled, at first because of the sight and the implications behind it, then at the smell which was magically locked beyond the door. "Dear god!" or something similar escaped from his covered face, his arms doing little to block the smells of blood matter fur and bird crap, but great deals in blocking his voice.

A large bird turned and hacked up a matted tuft of fur and bones, before returning to its slumber in its open cage, almost as if it awoke just to spite the prematurely aging man. This was the final straw and Remus retreated from the room, unable to stand it any longer.

"I'll look for anything useful in the other rooms." Remus rushed out of the room faster than any human could, leaving Harry to gather their purchases.

"Where are we going to go?" harry wondered aloud. His nameless falcon turned away from him sitting in is cage quietly looking around the room for unnoticed puffskins. It was the first to be tossed unceremoniously into his vault, quickly followed by his other birds. "No ideas from you lot, huh?" Flipping through the books as he stored them away, one stopped him in his tracks.

'_North European Wizarding Traditions._ One of Remus' purchases.' The title was unfamiliar, but the first page held some promise.

"Remus!" There was a loud crash, a thud and a door slam before Remus appeared in the doorway, out of breath.

"What's wrong?" He had found a thin chair leg somewhere and held it as if it were his wand, as he scanned over the piles of rubbish on the floor suspiciously. Locking eyes with Harry, then seeing the book, he slipped the instrument in a pocket, covered his nose and walked over to his honorary nephew.

"How much do you know about the Potters?" With a look of deep concentration, Remus started to vanish the more offensive collections of remains with waves of his hand, before answering.

"More than enough, but that really isn't appropriate for right now." Harry waved away the response.

"I mean, do you know about any properties we own? Any houses away from towns?" That got Remus' attention. He continued to vanishing clutter as he thought about it, until a smile spread across his face.

"I don't know, but you have that Gringotts bag right?" Harry held up the aforementioned bag. "You should be able to get a list of your properties out of it, if your family trusted the bank enough to leave them with a list. You can never keep enough eyes on those damn goblins."

Not questioning Remus' dislike for the species of money guardians, Harry buried his hand into is vault bag, until parchment reached his hand. Yanking it out, without regard to its thin and ancient feel, he quickly listed off properties the he owned. "One small…plantation? This couldn't have been updated for centuries." Remus eased it out of his hands and read the first property.

"It was a gift from the Black family. You might still own the land, but you can check on that later." They looked further down the list, ignoring impossible claims, until another caught Harry's eye.

"At least I've never heard of this place." Remus looked interested, so Harry spoke the name and description aloud. "_Giardini di Artigiano. A gift commissioned upon the marriage of Katherine Reid and Andrew Potter. A large property warded to the greatest of both the British and the Italian family's abilities. Unknown value, due to lack of maintenance after 1875, when the last of the house elves died in the property."_ Probably the mention of dead house elves seemed to kill the idea for Remus, but as even as Harry though about the cost of repairing the home, he knew he wouldn't find another remote property like it. Family heirlooms, freedom and if the warding was anything above muggle repelling, safety. "I'm going there."

"I thought you would want to. Just like them…always up for adventure." A wistful smile left whether it was Sirius and James or James and Lilly he was talking about in the air.

Harry skimmed further into the description, until he zeroed in on something he had been hoping on. '_Exact coordinates unknown. Currently accessible only by a permanent portkey, though other ways should exist once on the property_.' He reached into his bag again, willing the corresponding transportation into his hand. A shrunken portrait came to him this time, which was easily retrieved, before a dilemma came up. Remus stared expectantly at him, hand on the frame waiting for him to activate it, until realization hit.

"You don't know how to activate a portkey, do you?" The occupants of the photo laughed at him silently, unable to pierce the charms preserving them. Remus took the list of properties away from him and read over the description. "This one seems like it would be simple. It was a gift from an Italian mage, so…_Ve a Giardini di Artigiano_!"

Roaring wind filled their ears for a brief moment, before the two landed in front of a decrepit property. A house, ravaged by the elements and time alike, lay half crumbled with moss and vines housing themselves readily wherever they could.

"Wow. That's disappointing." Remus looked around confused, before suddenly snickered approvingly. "What is it?" He rubbed Harry's head, almost in a condescending way, before walking towards the house.

"An illusion. A prank. One maintained for several decades, but still a prank. You can feel the magic maintaining it." He pointed toward a corner of the shack. "Look, they even didn't set up proper shadows for it." Harry felt nothing but a rush of sugary energy as he approached the house, the surge continuing until suddenly the dilapidated shack disappeared. Remus stared through where it had been for a second, before both combat and prankster instincts kicked in. "Wait."

"What now? Anything else going to happen?" Remus looked towards a large house that appeared atop a hill, before looking around them.

"The spells shouldn't have canceled like that. Illusions and tricks like that never disappear, until they are dispelled or they run out of magic." Impatient, Harry continued without him.

"I think it was barely up. Probably didn't have enough power to maintain the illusion anymore." Remus followed faithfully, muttering diagnostic spells under his breath. "Is the house real, or is some wanker messing with us from beyond the grave?"

"The house is real…I think. I'm just trying to figure out what happened to the illusion. Some of it was actually transfigured and conjured, but as soon as we approached it, it all vanished." Remus stopped and carefully drew something in the moist soil with his chair leg. "I'll stay here for a bit. The warding around here…" Harry chose to continue to the family home before Remus could start a one sided discussion on something he didn't care about.

Approaching the house, yet another rush of energy hit him, this one lingering on him instead of disappearing into him. The closer he got, the stronger it seemed to resonate him, until when he reached the door, a sense of familiarity settled over him.

Barely thinking anything other than the odd awareness he had of his surroundings, Harry entered the house. Though the calling had seemed attuned to him outside, it only grew stronger inside, where conflicting images were layered everywhere. A clear case encaging a rare and potent aphrodisiac plant with radiating magical powers came to mind as he looked at the entrance hall, only for a disappointing fissure in the wall to appear when he drew close.

He knew the house well. However, it couldn't be his memories that plagued his mind. He had never even been close to it, if the Gringotts description was even slightly inaccurate. "I can't be remembering this." Everything about the once beautiful manor screamed something would happen to them, if they stayed to long. The bloody slashes on the wall attested to that.

"Home sweet home, huh?" Remus apparently finished checking the warding for the house and found a satisfying answer to the illusion. "A perfect little hole in the ground." They both started their journey deeper into the dead house.

"I couldn't agree more. Perfect."

There was nothing anywhere. If one wanted a better description, he could tell them that he was completely enclosed by darkness and his senses had fled with the light, but to him, the two were one in the same.

As he stumbled through a resisting sludge, fighting his way towards what he hoped was his purpose, all but one driving reason for being, was erased from his mind. If he stopped his endless journey he would stop existing; that was all he knew, as the man clawed through nothingness towards what he hoped was his a decent reason for his struggle.

'I need to get beyond this. I have to…' At this point, he couldn't remember what the thought was originally was about, but he knew it was important. He would bet his next step that he was needed and if he stopped, he would fade away.

So he persevered. He refused to give in.

He took one more step.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Parseltongue/non human speech**_

_Spells/Foreign languages/ Dreams/Text_

Story

'_Magic with a focus, while easier to master than wandless magic, is mostly dependant on an equal balance of raw power and magical skill. This is used to imitate the connection wands and staffs traditionally have with their users and then redefine it with practice. To summon a foci, envision it and let it drain what it needs to return itself to you. This works slightly better, for those inexperienced with wandless magic, using a rod-like foci and concentrating on a summoning spell, while thinking about the other foci you are summoning._'

Harry slipped the book back into his Gringotts bag and replaced it with his still unfamiliar and cold scepter. 'Accio wand.' Cold air washed over him, cleansing him of his strength for a few seconds, before the magical weapon simply materialized in front of him. Rather anti-climatically, it dropped to the grimy, floor and rolled silently into a mushroom sprouting out of the wooden boards. Right beside Remus' feet.

"Can I borrow this? I want to fix everything up a bit while you practice." Remus plucked the weapon up and whirled it between his fingers, getting a feel for its weight and length.

"Go ahead." Nodding, Harry read further into the overfilled, but neatly written book.

'_Foci are the bridge between highly precise wands and intent driven, unfocused free magic. For those inclined to use wands and spells, normally casting the spell achieves roughly the same effect with foci, at the cost of control. Until directional orientation is established, spells cast by foci must have a specific target the user has a connection to, be it another focus, an object near to the user or the user himself, or it will be without direction. One must still envision the effect until they are familiar with the foci though.'_

"_Lumos_." Closing his eyes, Harry focused completely on creating a light bright enough to read by, but dull enough to not be seen from a great distance. When he opened his eyes, the whole scepter was glowing, albeit a bit too bright for his liking. "_Nox_" This worked perfectly, leaving his eyes to adjust to the sudden change.

'Let's see how well this works.' Pulling the glass eye from his bag, Harry attached another spell to the first. "_Lumos. Locomotor eye." _The glass eye glowed, easily filling the room with its radiance, before slowly raising out of his hand. With the scepter, he directed and without wavering, though slowly, it trailed after his conducting foci. For a few minutes, he toyed with the eye, until he decided he had decent control over its flight and it was time to start on a next spell. "_Nox." _It ignored the spell, floating unassumingly at chest level and maintaining a decent brightness.

"_Nox!"_ The light flickered, but otherwise, it refused to stop. Growing aspirated, Harry tried another spell. "_Finite incantum!" _An uncolored blast of magic rushed from the scepter, radiating in a small, uneven sphere. The eye, barely in contact with the sphere, lost all signs of magic and dropped like the ornament that it was. Inches from the ground, Harry remembered it was made of glass, but even with his seeker reflexes, he reacted too late to catch it as the delicate item shattered brilliantly against the decomposing wooden floor.

"Shit." He stared at the green and clear shards, amazed that within a few minutes of practice he had destroyed one of his few weapons. The hundreds of barely visible fragments of it seemed to stare back, laughing at him for the same. "_Reparo_. _Reparo!_" The glass flowed into a small pile under the scepter, but refused to completely reform.

Carefully lowering the scepter until it lay next to the small pile, he consulted what was quickly becoming his bible. It took a while, but twenty skimmed pages finally resulted in a comparably small side note, the only reference to his situation that he could find that early in the book.

'_To imbue the abilities of something into a focus, take the focus apart and then place the new addition in the center of it. Incant "Redivivus unis!" and the two will become one. *Plants, several runes, wards, magical objects and small animals work well with this. With plants, obtaining several samples of it from different areas is suggested to diversify abilities. The powers of this new creation depend on which of the above it is closer to. These new abilities must be manipulated though the Focus connection ritual and relate closely to the item's original abilities. New samples can later be integrated with the same spell, although it is not wise to try to add a completely different substance. Conjured items simply will not work, unless they are both permanent and have a power source."_

Searching himself, Harry found no trace of an item he could use. With a sigh, he reached down for his scepter, when one of the small fungal growths around him caught his eye. "It should be alright." He didn't remember many lessons on mushrooms, from Hogwarts or any other school, but they were alive and they did probably have their own magical abilities.

With little ceremony, he plucked some of the cap off a brownish mushroom in the middle of the room and a piece of a bright red cap of a mushroom a protruding from a root in the corner of the room. Burying them in the fine powder of his foci, Harry completed the last part of the spell.

"_Redivivus unis!"_ Thinking of nothing but the spell reforming the focus, he closed his eyes and missed the purple spell seeping from the pile of glass and into every nook of the room. Only when the metal of the scepter started to grow hot in his hand, did he open his eyes to the newly reformed focus. Upon first look, it seemed to be perfectly restored, but as soon as Harry touched it, he realized how wrong he was.

The smooth surface was now rubbery and almost flesh-like. Squeezing it a little, a dribble of liquid trickled out, confirming his suspicions. It was all mushroom. Only the lens seemed to be of another material, as it bent with the rest, but it always returned to its original shape without any change.

"Now I just need to figure out what I can do with you…and how to change the other foci." It wasn't much, but it was still a step forward.

"Where are you, Harry?" Dumbledore let his hands glide over an enlarged map of Europe, locating instruments constantly adjusting themselves to his thoughts. Dozens of spells and incantations raced through several parts of his partitioned mind, each completing its own job ad starting another at rates normal wizards couldn't dream of. "Where are you hiding now?"

Over the last few days he had been trying some of the spells he personally placed on Harry, checking for any changes, but every single one of them failed him. With his more advance search spells already failing, he drew upon his well of knowledge and pulled out a spell he hadn't used in years, starting it with what the others had the most difficulty. 'Show me where I cannot scry.'

It was a simple, though exhausting, spell he had used many times in his long life; it searched for active barriers against magical detection and plotted them on whatever surface he wished. What with criminals and runaways trying to ward their hideouts against search, it was his secret way of knowing exactly where to go, when his skills where called upon. Magic flowed through him, off into the air and the earth and, within minutes, smoothly flowed back through him into the map. Dark spots appeared over the map, but there was a relatively small amount in the UK, only a few dozen at most.

Seemingly without provocation, the small peninsula and island that made Europe peeled themselves away from the map and then stretched, growing to a size that would never normally fit onto any map. Floating, unsupported by all but his will, most of mainland Europe erased itself, making the UK the map excerpts main focus.

"Perfect." He dug through his own memories for the places, having been to more than a few of them in his long life. "The Flammels, of course. Their wards are powering down now. The Malfoy estate, with fully active wards. The Longbottom family home, with fully active wards. My home. I believe that area is part of the ministry. These here are hidden homes in muggle areas. I remember the warding request for most of these. These over here have been active several months." As he named off all of these places, the dots signifying them faded back to the maps normal colors.

"These clusters are from families that warded themselves during the war. These here are several criminals, but none of them are recent. That just leaves…"

Four flickering dots remained, three of which were partially accounted for. The largest dot, which slowly slid back and forth on his map easily cover more land than all of the other dots combined, had to be Voldemort. There was little he could do about that though. The second, almost halfway between his home and the Malfoy manor was probably the Potter manor and the several small homes dotted around it, which had been abandoned since James' childhood, its dying warns not quiet powered down yet.

If Harry was there, they would be restoring themselves automatically. Turning part of his mind to another instrument, he found that its wards hadn't renewed themselves for over two decades. A small one, barely across the English Channel, was Gindelwald's and, for some reason, it was always active and at full power, leaving…

"Get Alastor and Tonks." He had no time to assemble the whole Order, but even with his vast skill, he had to be prepared for the worst. Of course, the aurors were among his more skilled fighters, and would be well suited for his current mission. Fawkes looked over to him, making sure Dumbledore was not talking to himself, before it disappeared in a burst of flames.

Looking over himself, to make sure he remembered to wear clothes this time, Albus stretched his ancient muscles. Though weak with general disuse, magic and genetics had been more than kind to him.

"Weren't they, Gellert?" In their youth, they had more than just battles of will and although Albus was less athletic, they shared an almost even amount of victories. Their competitive familiarity bordered on brotherhood and love, barely evading falling directly into either every moment they were in contact. The fierce memories were fond ones, but they were in the past. "I don't have time to dwell in that realm, my friend. I'm sorry. So sorry."

Fawkes saved him from himself, appearing with both clothed and armed aurors. Tonks, a bit wet behind the ears, was positively excited over the prospect of a fight, showing how deeply the Black family was affected by its madness. Moody, on the other hand, carried with him the same masked exhaustion and paranoia Albus saw on himself every day. It pained him, hurt him so deeply the loss of Gellert seemed unimportant, but he had to do this.

"We will be infiltrating an unknown enemy territory. Your mission is to subdue and retrieve any wizards you find there. Allow no magical creatures to stand in the way of the mission. If you are injured, activate your emergency portkeys and send out a distress signal." Moody nodded imperceptibly, as Tonks' hair rapidly flashed through colors; she seemed to be restraining herself, as she never drifted to her preferred cheery colors, favoring more subtle colors such as black, forest green and dark brown.

Her young joy hadn't quite broken at the loss of their finest, like the elder members had. She was too young to remember Sirius, too old to know Harry and too immature to have feelings deeper than her obvious crush for Remus.

"Are you both ready?" Moody pulled a small vial from the false bottom of his flask and drained it, before sealing and replacing it. From smell alone, Albus remembered the drink. 'First it will increase his bloods oxygen absorption, then, over a few minutes it becomes a slow acting blood replenisher. I believe his also has constant mental clarity and endurance enhancers.' It was one of several unlimited elixirs he had given Moody, along with the flask itself and the recipe itself was just as astounding, but there was no time to remember his youthful endeavors.

"We are ready!" Wishing for the overflowing energy of youth again, Albus' group grasped Fawkes tail and the four disappeared in a burst of flames.

Remus carefully moved next to a suspicious hole next to a portrait and tapped the area with his borrowed wand. Nothing. Making sure to move slowly, he slid the end of the wand in and violently shouted the first of a set of spells he had selected for repairing the decrepit building. "ASTRUM FLAMMA!" An intense flash of light exploded from the hole, indisputably blinding any creatures that made the poor choice of living in that wall. "Repello."

He traced the outline of the hole and then swept the wand over the opening. Now completely sure of his safety, he completed his magical purge. "Exertus." Sand poured into the opening, flowing up to the hole in a matter of seconds, trapping anything that hadn't escaped after his first spell. "Duro" With this final snatch of perverted Latin, the sand filled opening hardened into a strong stone.

With a sigh, Remus pocketed the wand and tapped the wall. Deeming it solid, he started to leave the small library, slipping a small sack of freshly discovered books into his pocket, when he noticed his breath created condensation before him. Now acutely aware of his surroundings, he realized that the temperature had dropped from high fifties to the low twenties, if not lower.

Nothing came to mind when he tried to think up a cause for this change either. The only creatures who would be in this kind of environment and absorb heat that fast were demento… "Oh shit." Mentally reviewing the villa's layout, he sprinted through room after room, searching for his temporary charge. "Harry?" The fact that as he got closer, it also got colder didn't help him any.

"Harry?" He faintly heard a male voice mutter "other foci." encouraging him to speed up. Three annoyingly massive bedrooms later, Remus reached a door coated in frost and slid over the icy floor to a stop. "HARRY?" Accidental magic blasted the door open, and Remus burst into a slightly disappointing scene. Harry, slightly pale, but otherwise healthy, was bouncing a small ball against a wall, muttering ideas with each rebound.

"Fire? No, that's pretty useless." Another bounce. "A bird? No, that would be a waste…not enough uses. A magical animal might work but…" A double bounce off the floor, then the wall. "Maybe a potion? No, that would only be usable in a few circumstances. Unless I could include several…" This warranted a pause, before he dismissed the idea. "No, they could react negatively, and maybe even destroy the focus." He almost missed the next catch, but his left hand darted out and snatched the ball from the air. "Maybe I could go with the runes idea, but I don't know enough about them to try that right now." He caught the ball one last time, before turning to Remus. "Do you know of any useful runes I could use on my foci?"

"Are you ok?" Remus asked, examining his charge. Harry appeared to be oddly unaffected by the freezing temperatures. Curiously, the room showed no signs of being surrounded by cold air and ice; it was easily the warmest place in the house.

"Of course I'm ok." Harry answered, and he started to bounce the ball, but stopped himself, curiosity burning within him. "Wait, why? What happened? What's wrong?"

'What could be going on here? I know I'm not insane…maybe the ice is part of a spell he was practicing. It's his first day of using a focus, instead of a wand, so I suppose that makes enough sense.' Dodging both questions, Remus offered his. "What spells were you doing?"

"A levitation spell and a light spell. Both of them were pretty basic…why?" Remus stared at him for a second, before he started to say something. He barely got his mouth open, before a load cracking sound, followed by a thud and a howl of pain interrupted him. "Never mind. We have to see what that was."

"I'll lead." Remus whispered. Both crept out of the room, starting towards the entrance hall. The trip was oddly short and, in under a minute, they had followed the hissed curses to the fissure in the wall they first saw upon entering. Unfortunately, it would be too obvious to the intruder if they peeked around the corner, so Remus whispered back to Harry.

"Ready?" Harry nodded, his hand reaching his waistband, only to remember that Remus had his wand.

"Wait!" Once again, Remus charged out alone and, after summoning his scepter with the Fungal Eye, Harry jumped out to follow. There, before them, stood the duo's greatest 'good' threats. Silhouetted against the light of the setting sun, stood Moody with his wand already drawn. To his left, Dumbledore was treating Tonks, who lay against a wall, her arm wrapped tightly and glowing blue.

A speck of light that peeked through the decayed wooden wall revealed fresh splatters of blood, which led from her to a large wooden piece of the door. Said piece of wood was absolutely drenched with blood, explaining the swearing.

Remus lowered his borrowed wand slightly as Dumbledore stood, currently unarmed, but certainly the most dangerous being in the corridor.

"Drop your wand Remus. You don't want to fight us." Dumbledore almost whispered. He locked eyes with Remus, looking as elderly and dejected as he probably ever had. "You know how this will end. Do it for Harry. For James, Sirius, Lily…"

Moody's natural eye lay centered on Remus, his magical one spinning to search for any other opposition. Until it passed over Harry a few extra times, and saw something he would have never expected. The faint trace of an unidentifiable magic radiated from the cloak, leeching at its surroundings.

Now that he was aware of it, he focused more on Harry, allowing him to quickly detect traces of the magic all over him. It fed into two large magical cores, one he recognized as Harrys' from their prior encounters. The other was seemed to be absorbing several smaller cores; pumping magic through and from his body as it gained power from those cores.

With a sigh, he shifted his stance slightly, so he was now, unnoticeably pointing his wand between his two adversaries instead of aiming solely at Remus. Albus detected this immediately.

"This is your last chance Remus. Please don't make us hurt you." Remus brought the wand up, silently blasting a large fireball at them, which Albus cleaved in half, drawing his wand in the same motion, while Moody shot out his own spells.

"_Incarcerous!" _Two silent spells shot through the first, the spoken one aimed at Remus and the others at Harry. Several more quickly followed it.

"_Protego." _At Harrys' utterance, clear wall of magic appeared around him. The first spell dissipated harmlessly against it, but the next continued through it, like it wasn't even there. It hit him before he could even think of moving, but instead of horrible lacerations, or being incapacitated, it rudely pushed him a few feet back.

Barely maintaining, his balance, Harry realized that he couldn't really fight without a wand. Albus swept his wand at Harry and Remus, creating colorful missiles of magic as Harry slammed himself into the wall, trying to remember a spell he could use as he moved out of the attacks path.

"_Finite! Aperus!" _Canceling Moody's rope spell, Remus took quick aim at Albus' spells and fired off his second spell. Without fail, Albus' attack switched direction midair, turning back on it caster. With a flourish, Albus turned all of them into a flock of small birds, which rose above them, flying close to the ceiling.

'I need something that can fire a spell. I can't take my wand back…that would leave Remus wide open.' Moody fired off three spells at Harry, all of which he lunged away from thanks the overly spacious hallway's size. 'Moody can almost certainly stop me before I get his wand. Albus might let me take his, but he might be more dangerous without it. Tonks…' Stealing a glance at Tonks, he noticed her right arm was the one injured. She wouldn't be able to cast a spell OR counter his. 'Tonks it is.'

"_Stupefy." _As always, several silent spells went with Moody's first, but Harry had learned his lesson and was already on the move. Remus yelled out a spell Harry couldn't quite understand, which sent a bolt of lightning out if his wand. Instead of aiming for Albus, who sent several spells at him as he yelled, Remus pointed his wand straight up, catching most of Albus' conjured birds with lightning that arced from one to the next. The momentary concentration the spell took left him wide open for what turned out to be a series of low level jinxes.

"_Accio Tonks' wand!"_ Not even hoping he could steal it without Moody noticing, Harry flung himself towards her as the spell ripped her wand from her left hand. Deftly catching it, he felt a slight pain in his arm, which, while slightly distracting, didn't stop him from letting lose his own spell with his new weapon. _"Stupefy!" _Moody stepped out of the way, still raining spells down on him, as Harry tried to get back to his feet. He felt a series of soft impacts, one of which knocked him down again, but he rolled and was on his feet in a moment.

"Hey!" Tonks, apparently not completely out of the fight, sprung to her feet and tackled him as Harry dodged several of Moody's spells. While this left him partially open, Moody stopped mid spell and started to hobble the few feet over to them, as Harry and Tonks wrestled over control of the wand. The only problem with this was that she was winning.

"_Expello! _Remus! We need to get out of here!_"_ The banishing spell knocked her directly into Moody, knocking him off his feet, but as Harry started towards Remus Tonks was already after him again. Remus, who was trying to counter both Albus' new spells and a humorously debilitating Jelly-leg jinx spat out two quick '_Finite_s" and lunged towards Harry.

Oddly enough, a trip jinx brought him down mid step, forcing him to roll away from several other, nonlethal spells. Cancelling the jinx, Remus jump to feet and grabbed Harrys' arm. In that split second, Tonks lunged forward, startling Remus into apparating early. With a thundering crack, the three disappeared. Moody stood, a moment too late.

"That IDIOT!" Moody's eye scanned the area, checking for any trace of the trio. He found nothing. "They're gone Albus. Nothing suspicious here except a strong magical residue towards where they came from." With a sigh, Albus pocketed his wand, laying down basic proximity wards over the house without it.

"Let's go." Checking to make sure his tracking spells were in place on Remus, Albus released a gentle sigh and looked down at his feet. Then, with one last look at the decrepit house, the two Light-Mages apparated off to inform the rest of the Order of the bad news.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Parseltongue/non human speech**_

_Spells/Foreign languages/ Dreams/Text_

Story

As Harry fell backwards, his feet tripping over themselves, he realized that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn't have thought that an injured auror would be easy to steal from. Remus was already on the ground, odd since it had only been a few seconds since they apparated. Funny how that worked out; the malnourished teenager outlasted the werewolf in a fight with a girl. The stiff punch, delivered with amazing force considering the arm it came from was bound in a splint and probably had at least a few numbing charms on it, explained why rather quickly.

"Give me back my damn wand." Luckily, when he was sent sprawling, he went over both Remus and an insignificantly small rock. Said rock and prone body, saved his ass. When Tonks charged at him, she first caught her foot on Remus' shirt and then immediately tripped over the rock and dropped to the ground besides him. Harry rolled away and then jumped to his feet, a spell on his lips, but Tonks smacked the wand out of his hand with a precise punch as she scrambled to her feet.

Barely back on her feet, she lunged at him, tackling him to the ground. In a few short moves she pinned his hands to her left side and struck him a few times, before stumbling to her feet and taking off after her wand. She reached it. Triumph exploding from her with a laugh, she spun on her heel, ready to finish off Harry and Disapparate.

"Stupify." Remus said behind her. Tonks dropped, wand in hand, as Remus stood. "Damn. She's got one hell of a punch, eh?" After shaking himself off, Remus leaned over Tonks and plucked her weapon from her fingertips. Twirling it in his right hand, he tossed Harry's back with his left. "This is good enough for now. Incarcerous." Ropes bound her, mostly removing the threat of her waking up and assaulting them. The sun chose then to fall pass the cave's small opening, turning the cave pitch black. Remus, mostly on reflex, waved his borrowed wand up at the ceiling, which then produced a dull light.

"So...where are we?" Harry asked. Now that he wasn't getting beaten to death, Harry took in his surroundings. They were in a cave, that much was obvious, but if took a bit for him to notice the moldy blanket folded in a corner, the rotting wood near a fire pit and the small, mostly diagonal entrance one would have to crawl to get through. He had been here before too. "Is this...?" Remus nodded. "Sirius..." It was the cave Sirius hid in.

"Sorry, but it was the first place I thought of." Remus did indeed look apologetic. "No one would notice us here, no one really knows about it and since Hogwarts' wards almost reach here, we shouldn't be attacked for a while." As he explained himself, Harry heard a slight grunt from behind Remus.

"Remus move! Stupify! Stupify!" Remus kind of went limp, both jumping and falling to the side, as both spells shot past him. Tonks, unable to react in time, was hit fully with both and fell again, one unbound arm going limp again, her hand just outside of her pocket. "We need to find somewhere to put her. How the hell did she break those spells?" Remus, stood, brushing himself off again. After a moment of thought, he spat his answer, angry at himself.

"Auror training. Looks like she can't outright resist stunning spells like Moody or Hagrid, but they do end early for her. I can't believe I forgot, James and Sirius bragged about that for months once they could do it." Jabbing his stolen wand at her, he muttered a few spells Harry couldn't hear and her legs slowly started sinking into the ground. After a minute, she was buried up to her head and Remus muttered another spell. And then, she woke up.

Immediately, she started wriggling, trying to get free, before Remus patted her on the head. "Tied you up, stuck your arms to your sides and turned the ground into magic resistant goo. You aren't getting out of this alone." It didn't stop her from squirming, but now a sense of hopelessness seeped form her.

"Ok, that works for now. So, what should we do with her?" She stopped squirming completely, a look of horror crossing her face. Slowly, her hair started switching colors, which didn't stop, even as she tried to hide her panic.

"You wouldn't!" Harry couldn't quite understand what she meant, but it hit Remus in a few seconds. At first, he seemed disgusted, before an idea came to him, and an amused smile conquered his face. "You can't!" Remus took a step to her side, then behind her, trying to hide his amusement.

"What do you...?" Remus answered him by bluntly humping behind her, before miming slitting her throat with his temporary wand. As the concept processed in Harry's mind, disgust battled with a sense of amusement, which would never have come from the idea before, until finally he decided he might as well get a laugh out of it. "Oh. Don't worry love, we won't let you die. At least until we're both finished...until we're both finished with..." Unable to continue, he broke into laughter, triggering Remus' laughing fit. Unable to do anything about them, Tonks glared at Harry until he collected himself. "Don't worry, we won't kill you, or lay a hand on you. But, we aren't letting you go."

"Sorry Tonks, we couldn't help it." She bit at Remus' heel as he walked pass her and patted Harry on the back. "A sick joke, but we needed a good laugh. You aren't going to get hurt, we just..." As a smile crept onto her face, Remus screwed up his own face in concentration and muttered a quick spell, his borrowed wand drawing invisible circles towards her head. "Anti-apparation. Almost forgot that. Try it now and you'll leave your head behind." She grumbled at him, annoyed.

"Nice job." Harry said. "Now then, we need to do something about these people appearing suddenly and kicking our asses." Remus shook his head.

"Nothing we can do really. If I went out now, I might be able to get some potions to stop tracking spells, but Albus always seems to bypass them. We just need to keep moving." Silently conjuring a soft looking chair, he flopped into it and thought. "If we could stay near Hogwarts, that might help throw them off, or at least keep Voldemort away. I think there are some settlements beyond the Forbidden Forest, but I really don't want to have to go in there. Especially with a prisoner." As Remus prattled on, he conjured a second chair, which Harry slumped into.

"Think we could get out of the country? Or, maybe to a muggle town, where we could find a temporary place to stay?" Remus batted Harry's ideas away.

"I can't apparated somewhere I've never been, and you don't want to go to any of the werewolf settlements I know, even for a few minutes. Especially the ones outside of Britain. Besides, it would be harder with her with us. If we get really desperate, I suppose we could try a muggle town though."

"Would she survive being transfigured into something? A bone, or a sock or something?" Panic crossed Tonk's face again, but they didn't notice it this time.

"Good idea, but she would break the spell too soon for it to really be useful. And then we have to deal with her again, probably in public. That is, if we're lucky and she doesn't end up dead because she changed back inside of a space too small for her." Remus sounded like a professor now, giving clear and exact reasons for Harry losing points on an essay. Tonk's panic was building, but wisely, she chose to avoid bringing any attention to herself.

"So, we need to stay near Hogwarts, you can't apparate anywhere useful and we need to find a place to house her. Great. Anything else? Wait, I know! She's also able to shoot spells from her eyes, and if we don't make McGonagall shag the giant squid, I have to marry Snape, right?" Remus snickered, but the situation was all too serious Harry to laugh. "We have to figure something out."

'_**I could help you.'**_ Harry bolted upright, unnerved by the bodiless, quiet voice. _**'I know where you'll be completely safe. You just have to trust me.' **_He thought over hearing the voice out, instincts and self-preservation battling a desire to trust the voice more powerful than anything he had ever felt before. After a solid minute, he decided to bring the internal struggle to Remus.

"Did you hear that? That voice?" Remus looked over at him and shrugged.

'_**They can't hear us. I need your help. I need for you trust me. Let me help you, so you can help me.' **_It took only a few more moments for him to remember his connection to Voldemort, the fact slowed by mental clutter. _**'I didn't force my way into your mind, I followed Voldemort's connection...but I can help you.'**_ It already knew what he would think next. With as much mental power as he could muster, he tried to suppress the voice and get help again.

"Remus. I hear a voice..."

'_**No. I'm sorry, but I can't let you do that.'**_ Suddenly, Harry was standing in a lush forest, life and nature extending as far as his senses could reach. Somewhat startled, he drew his wand from his side and rose from his chair, which melted into a leafy bush as soon as he lost contact with it.

"Ok. I'm here. Now who are you? How am I hearing you?" A girl screamed in the distance. Before he could think about anything, Harry found himself plowing through undergrowth, unable to stop. After what could have been an hour or a minute, he finally found the girl, an unbelievably beautiful teen, half coated with blood and chained to a large black stone. She was barely restrained, but considering how much blood she seemed to have lost, the fact that she could call for help was amazing.

"Please...they'll be back soon...help me..." Reaching out to grab the chain holding her, he remembered Sirius' death and Voldemort's vision. A small part of him didn't want to believe anything happening was real, a larger part refused to believe that her injuries were real and the largest that he could be cruel enough to leave her chain the boulder. But, in a moment, his mind reorganized itself and he remembered sitting in Sirius' cave and hearing a phantasmal voice.

"A dream..." She stared at him, pleading for his help. "This isn't real. You don't need help." She continued begging weakly for help. "No. I won't be tricked again." Before he could step away, a large beast violently shoved him past him and fell upon the girl, where it immediately started dining violently.

The blood splattering on him felt real. The sickening sounds of its feast and her piercing shrieks sounded real. The odd smell of wet fur and old blood was so thick, it tasted real. But it couldn't be real.

"Please." She gurgled. It was too much. Harry's wand lashed out at the beast, slashing as he yelled a spell he didn't know.

"_Sectus_!" The beast, whose features he didn't identify, was cleaved clean in half and disappeared, bloodlessly. The girl though...she was in horrible condition. The beast had torn her left arm to the bone, and there were horrible bite marks over her whole torso, creating valleys to match the hills of her swollen bruises and rivers of her blood. Whole chunks of her body were missing, but, somehow, she was alive. "Oh god, oh Merlin, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

She smiled at him and then weakly tried to wriggle free from her bonds. "Help." He could barely hear her.

With little effort, he tugged her out of the chains, trying to avoid touching her wounds and bringing more pain onto her. In seconds, he had her free and he laid her down on the lush green forest floor. "I'm so sorry...I thought someone was trying to..." He couldn't quite justify watching her get mauled, especially to her blood splattered face. "Do you know a way I can help you? Anything? Is there anyone nearby I could get?"

She smiled, mouthed a question and then stared up at him, as if expecting an answer. When he realized she was waiting for him to answer, he felt horrible, but he had to ask her a second time. "Please...repeat that. I promise I'll help you...just please be strong enough to repeat that."

"Open...your-yourself...to...me?" He started to comply, not even knowing how to do it really, before the question of everything being a dream or not washed over him again. As bad as he felt, opening himself to her wouldn't help anything...unless she was able to use him once he did.

"I'm sorry." Time slowed down as she went limp and then quickly became both ice-cold and rigid. He stared at the fresh corpse, tears threatening to fall, before he started to stand, only to find he was locked in the arms of the injured girl. Abruptly, their roles reversed and she sat crouched over him. Smiling a smile that he would never forget, she drew him into a soft hug. Slowly, the hug loosened until it was almost a ghostly embrace and before he realized she was even moving she had her hands wrapped around his neck. Then she started squeezing.

"Didn't your mother teach you to beware of injured damsels in the woods, Harry? Well...I suppose you aren't as stupid as I thought, but you opened yourself to me enough for my needs." As she spoke, her voice grew stronger, deeper, until she had dropped from an airy soprano to a light tenor. Then her bloody face melted into what amounted to a clone of his fathers. The copy's eyes were harder, its smirk crueler, but after only a few more minor changes, he was essentially staring at himself.

"I suppose I could get better revenge, but beggars can't be choosers, can they? Well, not much could beat killing you with your own hands after you killed me with my snakes' fang."

"Ghuhm..." 'TOM!' Even before the realization that he was fighting Tom Riddle hit him, he struggled in vain, trying to loosen the older wizards grip.

"Yes. Absolutely correct. Five points to Gryffindor." His voice changed to imitate Albus', before switching back to what Harry could only guess was his natural one. "Now hurry up and die. I have plans to start..."

'Die...' Squirming his left side free, Harry groped for his wand, which dropped in the transition between savior and victim. The moment his finger touched the polished wood, he felt a surge of hope, which luckily seemed to distract Tom enough for Harry to free his throat. Hammering Tom in the jaw with his right fist, his wand rose in his other hand and Harry bellowed the only spell his mind he could think of. "Avada Kedavra!" A blinding explosion of green tossed Tom back against the black stone. Gasping, Harry rolled onto his side, trying to regain lost strength, unconsciously switching his wand to his right hand.

"I may have been a bit rash." Tom muttered as Harry stood, aiming his wand before he looked up. Tom seemed to be welded onto the obsidian stone. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help myself. I've been trapped in here so long. It just drove me insane, but you knocked some sense in me."

Still slightly dizzy, Harry Brought his wand up, prepared to execute him. "Wait! Just hear me out. I can help you! Just...just give me something to work for...give me my freedom back! Would you deny me that which you yourself did not have up until a few days ago?" Tom begged.

"Yes. Avada kedavra." Was all Harry said as he took his revenge. A bluish green, possibly cyan, spell shot from the wand and slammed into Tom, but there were no obvious ill effects.

"I told you...I can help. I could help you master that spell; I did it perfectly in my third year at Hogwarts. Working together, we can defeat Voldemort. After that, I promise you; I swear on my life that we won't ever cross paths again." Each of Tom's words drew Harry in, whispered that compliance would be the safest, easiest route to victory, but Harry expected the manipulation. With barely a moment of concentration, he banished the desire to bend to Tom's will.

"No. I'm getting out of here. Then I'm going to figure out how to erase, kill or destroy you. Then I'm coming back and I'm going to remove you." Tom snickered at Harry's speech. "What? Want me to stay here, kill you and then leave?"

"Actually, you won't be leaving at all. I know exactly what you know and you never studied enough occlumency to know how to make a place like this, let alone get out of it. Besides, while this is your mind, I'VE been in here longer and I formed almost everything here." Tom swept his arm out, indicating the massive forest around them. "How much do you want to bet that I can conceal any natural exits, if there are any, without you even knowing how I'm doing it?" Tom never stopped smiling throughout his monologue.

Slack chains wrapped around Tom, much looser than they were on the girl. In fact, they were probably only used to create as false scale of Tom's freedom, as there were only a few of them and even a child would be able to find his way out of them, or even accidentally fall out of them. "A little bit of freedom...eventually either I'll break free, or you'll make a mistake trying to kill me. Either way..." He didn't need to finish. He was probably right, but, Harry wasn't ready to give in that easily.

"Sure...of course, you wouldn't be offended if I didn't trust any of the crap flowing from your mouth though, would you?" Tom shook his head, grinning madly.

"Go on...but your body can only tolerate what I'm subjecting it to for so long...eventually, you'll be imprisoned here too, stuck in your mind with me and you'll body will rot away. Who knows, maybe your body dying will free my soul. I can't wait to find out." Harry turned and left without another word, desperately hoping that Tom was lying.

Jaclyn was exactly six years and three days old, born only minutes after noon. She was a simple brunette, with traces of mother in her face, but both the grey eyes of her father and the endless energy of her favorite aunt. Just as every daughter should be, she was her mother's pride and joy, the apple of her father's eye and simply the cutest little girl to ever memorize the magical properties of pretty flowers. Well, she was a few minutes earlier. Now she was bait.

Loki, bored with exploring Voldemort's territories, left for new entertainment sometime after nightfall a day ago. He found it in playing with humans on his way to what his instincts told him was the most important thing in the world. Even if his fun delayed him a bit, he justified failing his greatest instinct with just how FUN it really was.

She was the fifth girl he used, though only the eleventh person he used as bait. His little game taught him a valuable lesson: People are less weary when helping little girls. Boys and adults seemed to make people worried and then he didn't get the full joy of revealing himself to whoever his trap drew in. He even tested his theory, mauling a set of twins and setting them on opposite sides of a room. The two humans, after hearing both mewling children, went straight for the girl and were on their way to the boy when he grew bored with them.

It was a wonderful way to learn, crouched invisible on top of a...a...a table...yes, on top of a table, hidden only because he wanted to be. Then, once the...parent?...yes, after the parent rushed to help the child, he could suddenly appear, tear them to pieces and enjoy the rush of all kinds of emotions flowing from them as they ceased to be.

They were always delicious enough, juicier and softer than most of the meat he had tried, and consuming them completely always left him with a few more facts on his mind, but it was quickly becoming boring. Until he learned he could kill them from a distance. This was what he was preparing to do now.

The little girl loudly sobbed, just barely louder than the passing...cart? No...no, car. But it was enough. A human male in a blue...shirt, then two human females, one in another blue shirt and the other in a white one, stormed into the room. The effect was immediate. The both humans in blue ran straight for the girl, so he focused on the white shirt female first. Stepping behind the two shouting blue shirted ones, he stared into her eyes, pouring so much of his power into them, he might have become visible.

Her eyes flashed with panic, before she went limp, body unmoving but still full of life. The thud stole the attention of the two humans in blue, so Loki danced around them, repositioning himself for a new attack. Unfortunately, they were now suspicious...weary. He could still surprise them, but it wouldn't be anywhere nearly as fun. He thought over attacking them as the second female lifted the little girl and the male, who seemed to be trying to stay low to the ground, crawled over to the white shirt female and started to lift her.

Then a wonderful idea hit Loki. The fallen woman in the male's arms could be his new bait and he could finish his meal; he certainly wouldn't be able to surprise them now, but it still would be much more entertaining. Darting forward, Loki ripped her from the male's arms and, still invisible, dragged her out of the room. Using the moment granted by the two remaining ones gasping and whispering among themselves, Loki bit her shoulder, trying hard not to pump her completely full of his venom.

She shook for a moment, eyes drifting closed, before they jumped open, pain and toxins freezing them that way. Her breath came out as a wheeze, but Loki wasted no time listening to the symphony, instead hurling her body up the stairs of the house, to the end of the highest hallway in the medium sized house.

The sound of the humans shouting only added to his pleasure as he seeped into the floor under his victim and, maliciously slowly, allowed her to fall into the shadow that was his gaping maw. The adult humans rushed over, tried to save her, as the little girl, recognizing the danger, escaped relatively unscathed. 'The game will continue with you.' He thought as two humans, one still struggling and the other limp, dissolved into his body; one was resolved, the other deliciously angry.

Spells splashed against him, but they only fueled his mind, telling him more and more about magics that were currently beyond his grasp. With no effort and barely a thought, he slid forward and engulfed the last female. She was also angry, with a touch of fear and hatred spicing her death.

Then the house was empty again. Carefully searching the building one last time to give the little girl more time, he finally lost interest in lengthening the game and went straight out of a window after her, the thick scent of panic and fear painting his path before his eyes.

"Riddle did a good job here." Harry had only explored a fraction of the forest and he could already see that it was a masterpiece. There was infinite variety, with dozens of trees, flowers and shrubs and endless number of insects and small animals. Each one looked completely real; there were even tracks from larger animals he hadn't yet run into and every so often he noticed a recreation of the cycle of life in spiders eating butterflies and insects crawling over animal feces, but none of that was in any way helpful.

"I told you that you would never find anything. Why don't you give up now?" Harry ignored Tom's omnipresent voice, still searching for anything useful. Hours later, all he had done was tire himself out and get mud on his shoes. MUD! Tom had even created dirt and mud in his little ecosystem.

"Damn it. This is..." Harry reached out to brush a gnat from his pants, when his chest seized up. Surprised, he whipped his wand out and turned to look for another mage, only to see more forest. That meant...

"Yes that was me. Since you aren't battling my influence and I have no reason to help you, I am slowly destroying your body, piece by piece. You really should just agree to let me help you." Harry fell over, trying to force breath into his own body, trying to ignore the pain dancing up his arms and across his chest. "I wonder if I can possess your body after you're dead..."

"Fine!" Surprisingly, Harry didn't need breath to say that. The moment he relented, all ill effects drained away, leaving Harry to gather his wits and force himself up from the muck. As he stood, suddenly he was before Tom again, still surrounded by an unreasonably realistic forest.

"First, release me, if you don't mind the effort." Harry grudgingly stepped forward and tugged at the chain. With the slightest of pulls, it fell away and Tom stepped away from it smiling brightly. "Was that so hard? No, I think not."

"Stop whatever you're doing to my body and get me out of here." Tom shrugged and started stretching, practically purring at his unlimited range of movement. "Now."

"Sure. That was the deal after all, wasn't it? I'll even throw a little something extra in for you. Go into the Forbidden Forest and I'll show you the way to one of Slytherin's secrets. You should really learn occlumency, by the way. Every single detail here I stole from your memories, from the trees to the grass."

"You're supposed to help me get out of here." Tom turned away, looking upon his creation from a new perspective.

"I will. See you on the outside. By the way, don't talk to me when you see me out there." Before Harry could ask what he meant, the forest became a blur around Tom and abruptly, he was back in Remus' conjured chair.

"Harry?" Remus leaned from his chair and poked him. "You hear a voice? From outside?" Harry shook his head, unable to speak for a second. "Just thought you heard something? Alright...I guess occasionally some people pass by..."

"Ask him if he could go get some of the potions he was talking about. A few different potions to prevent tracking, along with some strong Dreamless sleep and a few Stupor inducing potions. That'll give us enough time." Glancing over his shoulder to look for Tom, Harry only saw the dark brown wall of the cave. "Go on. He won't let you do this if he's with you." Harry tried to resist, but his mouth quickly betrayed him.

"Hey, Remus. Think you could pick up a few potions that prevent tracking...and a few strong Dreamless sleep and Stupor inducing potions?" Harry blurted the question before he even thought about if he wanted to.

"Sure. I'll be back in a few hours I guess." With a pop, Remus disappeared.

"We can talk outside the cave; just leave Tonks here." Reluctantly Harry stood up and, without offering Tonks any explanation, walked out. Once outside, Tom materialized before him.

"Try not to draw attention to our little agreement. Ok?" Harry's wand flew to his hand, as his anger bubbled to life.

"STOP DOING THAT!" An orange topped tree a few meters away exploded violently; smoking and burning chunks of wood flew in every direction but theirs. "How are you controlling me? Why are you in my mind?" Tom floated around him, circling him, the grass barely bending under his weight as his toes brushed the ground. Harry turned to match him constantly, unwilling to let the apparition out of his sight.

"Magic. I could teach you how to do it too. Of course, it would be harder if you want the person to think they actually want to do what to force them to, but it's still easy to learn." As Harry's mouth formed the words 'thank you' he stopped himself. "See? I've taught you something already if you can stop yourself."

"I don't want to learn anything from someone _**like you**__._" His tongue slipped from English to parceltongue as his voice became laden with anger fueled magic.

"_**What do you have to lose**_**?** Your precious friends? Family? Your life? You don't have any of those things. Not anymore." Harry didn't even pause before answering.

"It doesn't matter what I lose. I just don't want to lose it to you!" The floating stopped as Tom warmly chuckled. "WHAT?"

"So...naive. You're still one of Dumbledore's little pawns. A child." A bolt of red magic shot from Harry's wand, as he called out a spell.

"Stupify!" Tom allowed it to slam against him. After staying still for a moment, he continued floating, indifferent to Harry's anger.

"You can't do anything to me Harry. You don't have enough control over your magic yet. But I can't gain my freedom until we figure something out. Just...trust me."

"No." Tom groaned with annoyance.

"What do you want me to do? What do I have to do to prove I don't wish to harm you? I suppose I need to offer an oath, or maybe sign a magical contract or something similar."

"Nothing you could offer would change a thing. You're a..." Harry's mind search for the proper term until finally, he chose one of Voldemort's. "A filthy mudblood now and even if you signed all the contracts in the world, you'd still be a filthy, murdering mudblood tomorrow." Tom spun, his feet just off the ground, to face Harry.

"Damn it! What more could you want? I have invaluable chunks of my future research! I have enough magical power to raze Hogwarts to the ground! I could torture Death itself until it flings your loved ones back from the grave! What will it take?" It was finally Harry's turn to laugh, enraging the phantom being further.

"You can't offer me anything Voldemort or Dumbledore couldn't give me. You're just a shadow of your future self and the real Voldemort can barely wipe Dumbledore's ass. I wouldn't bow to either of those bastards and I definitely won't let you control me either. Your nothing." Tom reacted as naturally as his muggle upbringing would demand for such an insult; he pulled his arm back and tried punched Harry in the face.

However, the moment they touched Tom was flung back a few feet, before he stopped mid air, floated for a few seconds and gracefully landed on his feet again. "You can't even strike me, you dirty blooded bastard."

Tom only stared, eyes dark and angry, before disappearing again. For a few moments, Harry relished in his small victory, before Tom spoke again, though this time he was much calmer.

"If you would just go into the forest..." Harry cut him off.

"I'll die for some reason and you'll take control of my body? Or will you call in your older self and see if he can extract you safely? No. You of all people won't convince me to waltz into an obvious trap." Tom was silent for a moment, before a chain of blood chilling slurping and squelching sounds spoke for him.

"Could she convince you?" Tonks clothed only in her short, spiky blue hair and splotches of purple, translucent slime crawled from the caves entrance. Without looking up, she crawled up to him and gently kissed each of his shoes. "I'm sure you remember how well I possessed little Ginny. It would truly be a shame if I killed such a beautiful shape shifter, wouldn't it be? I could, you know. Once Remus is back, I could take him down too. Everyone you meet I can kill. One by one, I'll kill each of them, absorbing their lives and magic until I'm strong enough to release myself from you." Harry knew Tom's threat wasn't a bluff, even if Tom would prefer taking another route to victory. "Still don't want to go? Well..." Tonks limply fell over, her body jerking and flopping in what he could only guess was a seizure."

Harry tried to stop himself from caring. He spent his will trying to ignore her, and his strength trying to restrain her, but neither lasted as long as he needed. Before he could even tell Tom that he would go, Tom stopped his attack on Tonks and after a second of recovery, she stood. Then, as if she hadn't just had been convulsing on the ground, she began gaily skipping towards Hogwarts.

"You win." Harry started walking, led by his naked prisoner and captor towards Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest.

"I know." Tom answered as he flashed a winning smile and faded from view. "I always do."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Parseltongue/non human speech**_

_Spells/Foreign languages/ Dreams/Text_

Story

Tonks didn't even slow down as they passed through Hogsmeads' semi busy streets. She, under Tom's command, didn't notice the occasional hot-blooded teenage boy or girl that wolf whistled at her, or the one man who that dared to flick her breast as she passed him. Following in her wake, Harry could have been on fire and he would still have evaded detection, not that anyone would be able to see past Tonks' herd of followers.

"You should be ashamed of yourself." Harry said. A girl and three boys immediately scampered away, blushing profusely and some of the rest of the following slowed soon after. Tom, on the other hand, simply laughed. Once they were out of town and Tonks' following had dispersed, he reappeared before Harry.

"Complain all you want, your still cooperating and you're still enjoy this. Like the view?" Tonks twirled, bouncing on the balls of her feet, a small feat she probably wouldn't have been able to manage on her own.

Her ample breasts perfectly matched her frame; her lean muscles that he knew were more than sufficient for decking an untransformed werewolf and her cute face, mixed the heart shape that had been bred into the Black bloodline with splashes of the Asian features he loved seeing on Cho. It a view he would normally kill for. After a few minutes of staring and following after her, Harry broke himself out of his trance and glared at Tom.

"Stop. Change her back." Tom only laughed, forcing Tonks to spin on her heel and prance into the trees backwards. However, he eventually obliged, subtly removing the Asian features and decreasing the size of her breasts until she reached a more athletic build. It was just as distracting.

"It's amazing controlling her changes; feeling my will take form in her mind and watching her change to match it. I'm sure you appreciate it more though. Hormones and all." Tom chuckled after this, implying something deeper. Then it hit Harry: Tom was augmenting, if not completely controlling his lust. "You should see how muddled your thoughts are. And how easy it is to change them into what I need." They walked for a few minutes in silence, until something strange happened.

As Harry hopped over a stray tree root, an image of Hermione, her small but enticing breast thrust forward for him. Stumbling into a tree, Harry shook his head trying to force the image away, when another one appeared, this time depicting Cho naked and sprawled across a bed, beckoning him forward. Expecting more coercion from Tom, Harry tried to clear his mind; he was reward was feeling a light, distant pressure before a vision of Ginny, clad only in string-like panties appeared before him, moaning his name.

As the image faded he felt a second, almost phantasmal, invasion into his mind, before a third light pressure brought more visions of Hogwarts girls he would have happily wanked to only a few months earlier. Tonks, skipping and prancing in front of him only made trying to fight off Tom's assault more difficult.

"We're here." Tom abruptly stopped the flow of visions, revealing a dead corner of the Forbidden Forest. The only source of light was Tom himself, though his meager glow only illuminated chunks of plant life frozen is an early stage of death and a massive grey stone disk that sank into the ground at the epicenter of decay.

The disk itself was simple: a flat, even stone circle etched with countless shapes and arcane symbols, most worn by the passage of time. At the very center, a small serpent sat coiled, head facing up to the sky, its mouth agape.

"Where is 'here'?" Tonks busied herself cleaning the disk, first wiping away dirt and dust that had settled in its etchings then scrubbing it with precise cleaning and water spells. Tom never looked away from her, carefully orchestrating her every movement and spell.

"The ritual circle of Slytherin. It's rather well known among purebloods; ignorant ones used come here to mark their children with the symbols of gods, in hopes of attaining some form of divine favor. That nonsense obviously stopped once my reign began, according the few memories my main soul allowed to flow to me." Tonks stopped cleaning and stepped away from it, as Tom orbited the disk ranting.

"I, of course, rediscovered its true purpose and how to activate it soon after unlocking the secret chamber of Slytherin. This is a portal that leads to subterranean ritual chambers; the home of ancient Salazar Slytherin. I can only assume all of the founders have a haven such as this, hidden within the ancient boundaries of Hogwarts, but well away from the actual school, though I have no interest in the others." Tom finally fell silent, and then disappeared altogether.

Tonks lay her hand against the rounded side of the disk and, with a look of utter concentration, chanted an incantation in a language he couldn't identify. Tom, still invisible, took it upon himself to answer Harry's unasked questions. "Arabic. A modified 'wholeness of body' spell that transfigures available materials to match the subject of the spell, then repairs and recreates the subject. It would only be cosmetic when used on an animal or human, but it works quite well on stone."

She chanted, without pauses for at least ten minutes, the sound of her voice eerily solemn, piercing the silence that filled the general area of the alter. But eventually, she finished her work, eyes glassy and her brow dripping with sweat.

"Step into the center and stand next to the serpent." Harry grudgingly obliged. "Crouch and place your middle finger into the serpents mouth; I need blood to finish this spell." With one last look at Tonks, judging the value of her life verses the cost his actions would undeniably have, Harry did so with his left hand, hoping to save his dominant one from permanent damage. With no warning, the serpent clamped down and hidden spikes within its mouth drew his blood. Fighting the urge to jump away, Harry looked up to Tom, only to find nothing.

"Wha-." The world disappeared, first from under his feet, then all around him. Before he could fall, a tugging sensation at the core of his finger, not unlike that of a portkey, began pulling him through the darkness. As he traveled, the tugging grew stronger and slowly worked its way up his hand and, eventually, his arm.

Though he felt he was traveling faster, the force caused no further pain, even as it spread until it yanked at his whole body and he reached what was probably his peak speed. Then, the pull weakened. After a while, it worked its way back to his middle finger and, with no further warning, he was slammed into place onto what he could only guess was another stone disk, considering the incredible pain he felt upon impact.

Tom appeared before him again, grinning eagerly. After a few seconds, Tonks appeared as well, dropping into existence as a sprawled heap. With inhuman resilience, she hopped to her feet looking no worse for wear, even though Harry could have sworn he broke every bone in his body.

"Amazing, wasn't it? Slytherin managed to produce a permanent translocation circle that could not only be used in any basic ritual, but fueled itself with the energies around it, centuries before anyone even dreamed of such a thing. Long before apparation, when risky teleportation was reserved for the only mightiest of mages. Most could only imitate it with the use of a ritual, which often flung them hundreds of feet off target, such has Neb..." He paused, composing himself. "You may proceed."

Harry tried to stand, but his traitorous legs gave out under him. Tom, already floating into the darkness did not turn back, but seemed to sense his difficulty as Tonks reached down and grabbed him by the arm. Then she threw him over her shoulder and jogged after Tom, without a trace of difficulty, maneuvering in the pitch black, century old cavern with him weighing her down.

Or was it a chamber? Harry couldn't tell exactly where they landed, as Tom did little to illuminate their path, beyond the permanent supernatural glow around him. Slowly, a pinprick of light grew in the distance beyond Tom and with it Harry was able to fully appreciate his disturbing surroundings.

Whole skeletons, ranging from those of infants to ones that had to belong to part giants or trolls, lay upon shelves on the stone walls. Some were cloaked in black, silver and green robes with the Slytherin crest emblazed upon their breast; others were suited with armor and weapons of various make.

Still more were modified, with gold, silver and black markings and lines running up and down their white bones, blades or shields attached to their arms. Columns on either side the small group sported skulls with glass and jewel filled eye sockets glinting in the light. One by one, orbs high above their heads flared, bringing light to the bodies, so Harry to feel all the more repulsed by them. Then he remembered who he was on.

"Put me down." Tonks complied immediately and dropped Harry onto the immaculate stone floor. Shaking imaginary dust off, he trailed after Tom and Tonks conflicted over whether he should move faster to escape the hall of skeletons, or slower to delay whatever awaited him when they reached the light.

"Stop. Don't move." Tom ordered, before he disappeared. Soon, the air around Tonks grew warm, polluted by the magic fueling her parasite. As Tom twisted and worked his borrowed magic, Tonks grew paler; after a minute of this, she returned to her natural form and collapsed, unable to draw enough magic or strength to stand or maintain her transformation. Still the heat around them grew more intense.

"Stop Tom." Harry demanded as he knelt by Tonks' side. Even while he was distracted by a threat to her life, Harry couldn't help but admire her beauty. Still, he wasn't distracted enough to forget the strain Tom was obviously putting on her magic. "You're killing her! We have a deal!" Tom gave no indication of hearing him.

Annoyed, Harry reached out and grabbed Tonks' arm, intent on removing her from the situation on his own. The moment he touched her, an intense, bitterly cold hunger arose within him. Though it was slightly painful, the hunger brought an odd, new sensation forward; strange, pulsing warmth, not unlike his heart, surrounded the cold of his hunger, satiating the craving. Entranced the odd sensations, Harry didn't notice Tonks violently shivering under him, until Tom reappeared over her.

"Pick her up and follow." Tom drifted forward, a few meters, before he noticed Harry wasn't following him. "Come. Now."

"No." Harry pulled his shirt off, somehow doing so through his robe, and draped it over Tonks having finally noticed her shivering. "I'm waiting until Tonks recovers. If she doesn't, then I have no reason to follow you. You obviously need me, so you had better hope she wakes up." Tom floated back to them, anger flowing off his incorporeal form.

"You dare…" He lost his words for a moment. "Fine! She will suffer for this then." Tom's hand radiated warmth as he reached down towards Tonks' body. His hunger welling up again, Harry reacted automatically and grabbed Tom's arm with his left hand, the right busy dragging her away. The moment his hand locked around Tom's arm, a starting shock raced through it and, on reflex, Harry almost let go. Surprised, the two wizards looked up at each other; it was only then they realized that Harry was actually holding Tom back.

"How did you..." Tom started to ask, before he ripped his arm away. Harry looked back down at his own arm and amazement turned to dread as a tingling spot on his palm bulged with a dark liquid. The knot of fluid swelled, just barely under the skin, before deflating, spreading the tingling sensation across his hand; soon even that faded. "Enjoy this part Potter." The tingling sensation crept up his arm, until it reached the shoulder. Then, more black knots of fluid appeared.

"This is nothing." Harry spat, groping for his wand. The feeling was akin to a limb falling asleep. Tom only smiled, sure in his revenge. The knots swelled just as Harry grasped his wand and, as he aimed it at one bulbous lump on the middle of his palm, all of the lumps popped, spewing an acrid smelling black sludge down his limb. The warts popping barely felt like a pinch. Harry almost re-sheathed his wand in his waistband, when the skin under the fluid started itching. Then aching. Then burning. Harry jabbed at his arm and yelled "Finite incantum!" to no effect.

"Yes. You are right. It is nothing." Tom said, before disappearing. Harry frantically wiped at his arm with first his robe, then his shirt which he yanked off Tonks, but it was to no effect; the dark spell had already eaten into him and was now running its course. Cradling his arm, which he couldn't even move anymore, in the shirt, and carefully avoiding letting it touch any of his flesh, Harry could only gasp short breaths between hisses of pain.

Then, as suddenly as the pain began, it stopped. Unwrapping his arm, he was struck by a combination of horror and disgust. The flesh on his arm, from his nails to just under his shoulder, had rotted and melted down to the bone; all that remained were his black and red stained bones, dripping with dark ichors and black puss.

Tonks reached down, having stood up while he was preoccupied, and hoisted him up by his hair. "This is the price you pay for your impudence." Tom's disembodied voice scolded, as Tonks lifted Harry, and carried him bridal style through the hall. Harry could only stare blankly at his arm, despite her breast being right beside him.

Not believing the bones before him were his own, Harry reached out and touched them with his right hand, his mind too clouded to consider the danger in his action. His arm was mostly smooth, with bumps and ridges scattered up and down its length; it was still warm. Eventually, they reached a massive antechamber.

The room was huge, with sloped walls that formed a dome above them and slabs of smooth, perfectly sculpted stone scattered across the floor, some circular, others rectangular and still more in other shapes, covering a spread of all sizes, and shapes. Along the walls more halls branched away from the central room, each topped by a skull whose eyes glittered blends of green and silver. Tonks dropped Harry again.

Tom levitated into the cavern from one of the side halls, opaque jars, brushes, chisels and boxes, large and small, following in his wake. With no explanation, he set Tonks and her magic to work again, drawing fresh runes and markings upon one of the larger circular disks.

"What did you do? What are you doing?" Harry asked. He still couldn't believe it. From his shoulder down, he was missing feeling. No. It was more than that. He couldn't tell he was supposed to have feeling there. As he stared, he occasionally felt a flash of pain from his middle finger, from where the teleportation circle drew his blood, but he couldn't fell anything else from the fleshless limb.

"That was a Roman 'Kiss of the Night" curse. It's nonfatal on an extremity, but, as you can see, it is rather potent. It was once popular among necromancers, you know; it's great for removing flesh so you can work directly with bones, but it isn't of much use in a duel since the spell cant travel far from its source. I tested that. Extensively." Tom answered as Tonks arranged bones and clay bowls filled with finely ground powders around them on the floor, along the edge of the ritual circle.

If Harry cared to look, he would have noticed the glowing runes along the sides of the bowls, preserving the potency of the ingredient's magic. "And I'm starting a phylactery. I'll need it to house my soul, so we can go our separate ways; it's somewhat primitive, but since I have no body to lose to undeath, thanks to someone…"

Harry could only stare, as Tom spoke of destroying flesh and manipulating his own soul as if he was discussing a potions essay. As Tom continued, explaining exactly how a phylactery could separate a soul from a body and what its drawbacks were, Harry could almost see dozens of texts giving vague instructions on how he could save himself from death, each in foreign characters, some of which he simply knew where unique.

"Of course, the early Frank ritual-spells for soul channeling aren't nearly as effective as-" Harry interrupted Tom here, completing the sentence for him.

"The West Goth ones from the same era, though the former has more well-known spells, which are often easier than the Goth ones. Evidence of the Goth's mastery of soul magic lives on in Evora-Portuguese mages, and the rare ruins of their ancestors'." Just as soon as he finished the thought, the information behind it was gone, leaving only confusion and irritation in its wake. Tom stared, anger seething beneath his calm smile. With no other warning, the world dissolved, melting into grains of sand that quickly reformed Harry's mind around them. But it was different.

The sky, once a cloudless blue adorned with a golden sun, was black with debris; trees, copses, animals fell like rain. Through the forest Harry could see water spouts and tornados tearing apart everything, funneling to and from a dark splotch in the sky.

"What did you do?" Tom asked and Harry felt pressure surrounding him, choking him. Them it disappeared and the world flashed black. Slowly, it donned on Harry that, though he felt the unnatural hunger once again, he could also feel imprints of memories that never happened to him and the warmth of what could only be magic flowing into him. The cold presence pulled and writhed around him, trying to consume the magic that made the mental world real. And then it found the source of the magic. Tom.

Tom could only scream as his strength faded, before he pulled forth enough magic to reassert his control over the world around them. The black tear in the sky attacked the world more viciously. "No. You could never be that powerful. It has to be..."

The cold feeling and the hunger that followed it rose up in Harry's chest, yearning to tear into the warmth; it was restrained, though by what, Harry couldn't guess. He did recognize the genuine looking fear on Tom's face though, and that was all the justification he needed to release it. He was rewarded with a flood of warmth and strength into the back of his neck and his chest, probably fueled by magic; even the magic keeping him within Tom's mental playground faded, flashes of reality appearing occasionally, as the cold stretched out, absorbing all the magic it could.

"No! You idiot! You-" Tom appeared before Harry and, before he could complete his thought, vanished again. His unspoken words lingered in Harry's mind, despite this, even as the cold presence probed further out, searching for more to feed itself with. '-into yourself.' Reality reasserted itself.

Then Harry noticed Tonks laying before him, still unconscious, naked and practically radiating warmth; the hunger grew more painful, tearing at him unlike anything he had experienced though his childhood with the Dursleys. Before he could consider what he should do about it, his robe, which he had barely noticed until then, lashed out, its trailing end stabbing at Tonks prone body like a sword.

"No!" The moment it touched her, the black material spread, fluidly stretching over her stomach and arms; he wanted to stop it, to force the thing away or curse the robe, but the hunger he felt from beyond his body was fading, instead becoming soothing warmth, a sense of strength and power.

As it spread, he almost became lost in the feeling unlike anything he had ever felt before; for a few seconds, it was all he experienced. Slowly, the hunger faded and, as it did, images and sounds pressed against his mind; the force pushing them weren't nearly as strong as Snape or Tom, though.

With odd ease, Harry batted them away, torn between feeding his hunger and saving Tonks. Someone who explicitly wanted to do harm to him. Slowly, as the rush of magic faded to a trickle, he realized that's what he had been doing the last hour or two; fighting Tom, tooth and nail, to save an enemy. Putting his own life on the line to save an enemy.

"I lost my arm to protect a woman trying to end my life or send me to prison." He chewed that over for a while, the idea becoming more and more hilarious as time passed. He would never play Quidditch again, without a hand to hold the broom. Not that he would ever get the chance to with the legions of enemies waiting to kill him. He wouldn't be able to make use of his wand and a focus at the same time; the only advantage he knew of to having the wand, ring, scepter and eye.

The inky fluid pulled itself away from Tonks and reshaped itself as his robe. It was satiated, and now a feeling of vigor spread through him. True teenaged hormones at work, Harry stared at Tonks chest and happened to notice it was still rising and falling, slowly. She was still breathing.

Releasing his shirt, Harry let his now useless arm fall and clatter against the ground, and drew his wand. He could get revenge for losing a part of himself. A single spell, and all of his enemies nearby would be gone; Tom was dead as far as he could tell and Tonks was in no position to dodge or block the curse. Whatever information Tom wanted to spout while playing mind games was gone and Tonks…Tonks still knew where the Order was now based. And what they were doing to capture him.

"Legilimens." With a rush of magic, Harry saw her mind, swirling mists of thoughts and memories superimposed over the catacombs of ancient Slytherins. Inspired by the instant results, he tried to move forward, to reach one of the clouds of thought, only to be stopped by a thin barrier. He tried again, pushed forward harder and the barrier gave slightly, but did not break. So he tried again, and again, over and over. Slowly the barrier started giving in more and more, until he finally punched straight through it, into the luminescent cloud composing her mind.

For a while, he drifted there, voices repeating snatches of conversation around him, images of her childhood, birthdays, Auror training, friendships, boyfriends and everything else randomly playing as he traveled; it was mostly clutter, but, as he journeyed deeper, the information within each vision, each bit of speech, became more useful.

Then he saw it; a huge, swirling red and black blotch in her mind. Approaching it cautiously, Harry felt it reach out with magic that felt just like his own, able to resist his probing, but not willing to. Without little left to lose, Harry entered it and a third set of images formed over the real world and her mind.

A pale set of hands clutched a silver and gold daggers is it slid across his arms, legs, chest and what he could safely reach of his back. Endless tomes, centuries older than Hogwarts, each outright stating discoveries still ahead of most mages, each in a language composed to keep that single tome indecipherable to all but its owner. Ordering a snake, which he desperately hoped was poisonous, to hide in another boys bed; revenge for a fresh set of bruises and the infinite shame of subjugating himself to another.

One shining moment was all Harry needed to recognize who the memories truly belong to though: Intense fear, pride and awe as he called upon a massive snake, more dangerous than anything he ever dared to experiment with before, in a dark flooded chamber, its eldritch beautify ruined by a battle between his ancestor and the serpent master's best friend. Forcing the basilisk of the Chamber of Secrets to obey his will.

They were fragments of Tom's mind; the bastard managed to store some of his being away just in case Harry killed him again. Harry watched, disgusted, annoyed and enthralled, as Tom took over another students mind and forced the poor boy to slit his own wrists, collecting the blood to use in a ritual on reptiles, merely because he was curious how it would affect making the creatures flame retardant.

It was all there. Every bit of magic Tom had scrounged up as he tried to escape mortality, before most of his peers started learning the facts of life. Every ritual that failed, spell Tom mastered, animal Tom studied and technique Tom practiced until he nearly passed out from exhaustion.

Perhaps he wouldn't have to kill Tonks after all. Yet, that is.

Since I'm moving, I had nothing better to do than clean out my flashdrive. In doing so, I located several stories I never finished and chapters for stories I released. This is one such chapter.

I am currently looking for a beta that, every once in a while, would have free time to proofread my stories for me.

Doxkid


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